


Not all wild horses have four legs

by headraline



Series: Detroit: Become Human Prompts [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Carl best painter dad, Family Dynamics, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Nothing too graphic but it's definity there, Prompted Writing, Sexual content as of chapter 7, Top Connor, city boy!Connor, country boy!Markus, country!au, fatherly Hank, more tags to come, possibly Luther as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-10 14:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headraline/pseuds/headraline
Summary: For youwereagoodboy's prompt on tumblr:so honey hello I said I'll find ya so I have a crazy thing going on in my mind since I've spend a whole week now in the country side, I just wanted to know if there's something possible to do with this idea I'm thinking about a human!au, where markus is a typical "country boy" and Connor comes over his particular village to rest bc Hank wanted him to you know get distracted from his busy life, and of course there's no connection but a lot of picturesque views and I don't know. maybe you'll make up a fluff story out of this!! let's hope my explanation was understandable enough :D





	1. in which Connor goes somewhere new

**Author's Note:**

> As per the summary say, I'm trying my hand at this.
> 
> Full disclosure: I know a _little_ bit about life in the cuntryside from my place of birth, but I know jack-shit about Michigan, I ran a quick research of a "countryside" enough place and worked with what I found. I also liked that it used to belong to Native people and really, really loved the idea of mixed/native Markus. I hope nobody gets offended and I'll try my very best to be respectful and do my homework with this.
> 
> I don't know how long this will be, I'm thinking 5 to 7 chapters at most, since I have another AU planned on the side as well.  
> ...so many fic ideas, so little time! XD  
> Well... I hope you guys enjoy! :)
> 
> (next chapter will probably be from Markus's point of view and what _he_ thinks of Connor, hehe)

 

Hank is very proud of his adopted son. Connor aced his way through the police academy, and he’s well on his way to becoming the youngest detective ever admitted into the Detroit Police Department.

There’s only one problem: Connor is very analytical, very goal-oriented and extremely hardworking. He _always_ accomplishes his tasks, no matter what –thing that often leads him to disregard himself and his own health. Case in point, the moment just after the graduation ceremony: after all the hard work, all the exams and all the things he absolutely excelled through, Connor accepts his diploma, smiles at his father…

…and collapses on the spot.

After the scare, the ambulance and the doctor’s verdict confirming exhaustion, Hank makes a decision:

“You’re going to the countryside to relax for a while.”

“But Hank, I need to prepare for my training—” Connor tries to protest, but his father silences him with a gesture of his hand.

“Your formal training starts in September and we’re in mid-July.” The Lieutenant says, matter-of-factly, “Look son, I’m proud of you following in my steps, but a dead detective doesn’t solve cases. Capisce?”

Reluctantly, Connor has to agree.

 

It is just like that that he finds himself on a bus, with only a suitcase carrying the bare minimum, his cellphone, a couple books and a lot of curiosity about Hank’s mysterious painter friend, Carl Manfred, who owns a ranch in Allegan, has a son about Connor’s age and is apparently an extraordinary person, to have been friends with Hank Anderson for 30 years and counting.

Connor scarcely remembers Carl, he saw the man once when he was like, twelve, and not for very long. Apparently Carl had an unfortunate accident that left him wheelchair-bound, and his two sons take care of him –or rather, one takes care of him and the other goes to see him every now and then from the city. Connor can’t really imagine any reason for not seeing Hank as much as he can, and wonders which one of the two sons he will meet –he hopes they’re friendly.

Michigan isn’t the warmest Country around, but summer is summer. As soon as he steps off the train, Connor misses the AC and regrets his choice to go with button up and slacks. At least Carl was very gentle and patient in his emails, and assured him there would be someone to meet him at the bus terminal to take him to the ranch.

He spots the blonde easily enough –it’s hard to miss a petite girl with a long braid in denim shorts and an oversized checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up holding a hastily scribbled notepad reading “Connor Anderson” –at least it’s a sure-fire way of getting the right person.

“Hello. My name is Connor.” He greets her, “Are you here on behalf of Mr. Manfred?”

The reaction he gets is the girl dropping the notebook and squishing his cheeks together. “Oh God, you’re so polite!” she exclaim, “Cute!” then she looks down to the pavement. “Oh shit, Markus’s notebook!”

The girl in front of him is clearly going too fast for him to follow, moving and talking a mile a minute as Connor tries his best to keep up.

So far, he has learned that her name is North, she works for Carl at the ranch, is good friends with his son Markus, and has a girlfriend named Isabelle.

Oh, and she drives a vintage Kawasaki LTD 440, which is her pride and joy and the very vehicle that will get them from Allegan station to the Manfred ranch. Connor has mixed feelings about boarding a 37 years old vehicle, but true to North’s word it looks in pristine condition –“With the original decals and everything!”– and she drives it like a pro.

“So, tell me about you, Connor!” she shouts back at him as they drive through the dirt road at a leisure pace, “Do you have a girlfriend back in Detroit? Or boyfriend?”

“Uh, no!” he says, mildly confused by the question, “Why?”

“Well, the way I figure…” her voice carries surprisingly well against the wind, she’s clearly used to shouting things at a passenger on her motorcycle, “You’re gonna be here for a month and a half, you’re gonna need a wing-woman! So, what’s your poison? Cowgirls or cowboys?”

“You don’t expect me to believe there’s _actual cowboys_ at the ranch?”

“Boys it is.” North declares, clearly very pleased with herself.

Connor just sputters a little at being so easily found out and holds onto her tighter when the bike gives a slightly scary bounce.

He is immensely glad when they finally pull up to the ranch. The land is quite big, from the front gates Connor can see a shed for North’s motorcycle, a pick-up truck and enough space for another vehicle, a barn, presumably for horses, a chicken coop and a house –or rather, borrowing Hank’s words, a big-ass freaking mansion.

Carl Manfred. …Carl Manfred! Painter extraordinaire revered nationally _and_ internationally as a pioneer of neo-symbolism… retired to private life after his accident but recently started painting again.

 _That_ Carl Manfred is Hank’s high school buddy? Holy shit.

“…wow.”

North chuckles with a nod as she exits the shed and dusts her hands on her shorts. “Don’t let the view intimidate you, Carl is an absolute delight.” She assures, patting him on the back, “Come on, city boy! Carl is having his afternoon nap right now and I have to go get back to work, the tractor’s been acting funny all day and I might have to check the transmission belt… but we’re gonna get Markus, he can get you settled and show you around.”

“Markus?” it’s the third time she makes the mysterious Manfred son’s name –they must be really good friends. He follows North, not really having much of a choice even as he tries and fails to send Hank an ‘arrived safe’ text.

She notices, and shakes her head. “Oh, reception’s lousy here, you’re not gonna have much luck with that.” She says, as they walk all the way up to a big, open-air enclosure with horses walking around, “We have a wi-fi router, and even that’s not that great, Markus can get you hooked up as well, so you won’t be _totally_ cut off.” And then, as if she wasn’t talking at a moderate tone to him just a second ago, she turns towards the centre of the enclosure, sits up on the wooden fence and hollers: “Yo!!! Markus!!! Anderson’s son is here!!!”

“Coming!” replies a voice from behind a brown mustang with a white tail, right before the person such a voice belongs to comes into view and…

…that is, without a shadow of doubt, an honest-to-God, real-life cowboy.

In 2018.

There’s everything: the faded jeans, ever so slightly scuffed at the knees from wear and tear, the checked shirt with rolled up sleeves, the sun-kissed brown skin and the hat. _The hat_ , on top of everything else.

‘Markus’ is also still holding a rope connected to the mustang’s saddle, so he’s walking side-by-side with his horse, just to make it more stereotypical. Connor is _almost_ disappointed when this absurd visage doesn’t ‘yee-haw’ at them, but instead speaks with a much more measured and calm voice. “You’re Connor, right?”

Connor looks away from the horse and back to his owner when he hears his name, but that reveals to be a mistake because Markus Manfred is. Undeniably. Mind-numbingly. Hot. “I— yes. My name is Connor, I was sent here by my father.” He manages to say, trying very hard not to stare but holy crap, Markus has one green eye and one blue.

“Well, welcome to Allegan county, Connor. I’m sure North yelled loud enough, but in case that wasn’t clear, I’m Markus.” The cowboy – _Markus–_ offers, with a chuckle and an outstretched hand, “I promise you, we’re not a bunch of hillbillies.”

“I—I wasn’t thinking that!”

“You’d be the first one. Usually people see me and are surprised that I don’t ‘yee-haw’ off my horses.” Possibly as a result of Markus accidentally voicing Connor’s exact mental image, the city boy fails to hold in his laughter.

“Well now I’m disappointed.” He finds in himself to joke, “I’d love to see a genuine ‘yee-haw’.”

From her perch on the wooden fence, North looks back and forth between the two and smirks. “Well, you guys seem to be getting along already.” She says, sending a strangely purposeful look at Markus, “I’ll get back to my tractor. Is Josh out with the sheep?” at Markus’s nod, she continues, “Simon?”

“Out to Kara’s, he’s making the pick-up for this week”

“Ok, cool! I’ll leave you be!” she finally decrees, jumping down with a little hop and flicking Markus’s nose: “…and behave!”

Markus is flustered at that, shaking his head and running a hand at the back of his neck. “Don’t mind North, she teases, but she means well.” He assures Connor when he sees his confused expression, but before the soon-to-be detective can think up an answer for that he finds a cowboy hat plopped onto his head. “Here, let’s hide your head from the sun a little, before you fry. Give me a couple of minutes to get my babies back into the barn and I’ll be right with you.”

And that’s how Connor finds himself watching a hot, real-life cowboy wrangle ten or so horses into the aforementioned barn. His analytical mind is still trying to process everything, even so far from the city and with no real need; and he’s picked up on a few things already: Markus’s skin isn’t simply tanned, that’s his natural skin color –he has freckles. Also, while he doesn’t have any particular accent, there’s a certain lilt to his tone that Connor can’t quite place, but that makes him want to ask.

Another think he noticed is that he’s absolutely _weak_ for the way Markus walks.

“C’mon.” he urges with a nod towards the mansion, “I’ll show you around, get you hooked to the wi-fi if you need to.”

“How did you know—”

“It’s the first thing you city people look for.”

Okay, it doesn’t matter how attractive that wink was, he won’t let Markus stereotype him like that. “Hey! Sorry for wanting to let my dad know I’m ok!” and no, he’s not a huge hypocrite for having done the same thing like two seconds prior, shut up imaginary voice!

Markus raises his hands in mock defeat. “Sorry! Sorry, you’re right.” he says that, but there’s still a lingering bit of teasing in his voice, “Let’s head inside, maybe see if Carl’s awake.”

Connor blinks confusedly. “You call your father Carl?”

“Force of habit.” Markus explains, as they walk through a hallway and a very spacious lounge and –wow, this really doesn’t look like any stereotypical country house! “I’ve basically grown up his son, but he’s always been ‘Carl’ before he was ‘dad’. It kinda stuck.”

Oops. Fifteen minutes or less with the hot son of his dad’s friend and already he’s putting his foot in his mouth. “Oh… I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s okay.” The other shrugs and smiles, so it can’t have been too bad. Connor’s knees already go weak for that smile, “Your room is gonna be over here. It’s got its own bathroom and we just cleaned it out, so you can leave all your stuff inside whenever. Mine’s down the hall this way, next to Carl’s. North’s room is on the other side, then there’s Josh over there, and Simon opposite to you.”

And of course, the master bedroom is where Carl is. Markus knocks a couple of times, and open the door at the gentle call of “Come in.”

“Had a good nap, Carl?”

“Hmm. If it was up to me, I’d have longer ones.”

“Carl…”

Connor takes his time observing the two. Markus was already being kind and friendly to him, but he turned downright tender when speaking to his adoptive father –because there’s no doubt about that. Carl is paler in his old age and sub-optimal health than he probably was before the accident, but he’s unmistakably white, and Markus is… unmistakably not. Still, the way they interact feels closer and more natural than many biological bonds he’s seen. Without realizing, he smiles.

Markus managed to get Carl in his wheelchair with minimal complaining,  and finally Manfred senior turns to him. Connor straightens his posture and clears his voice.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Manfred. My name is Connor. I’m so sorry for imposing—”

Carl waves a hand to put a stop to his apology. “Nah, none of that.” He says, gentle but firm in a way that makes Connor think that may be where Markus gets his mannerism from. “You’re Hank’s boy, you’re family. Hank tells me you’re gonna be a detective come September?”

“Correct, sir.” Connor says, nodding his head and suddenly remembering he’s _still_ wearing Markus’s hat. He takes it off trying not to blush.

“Hank also tells me you’ve worked yourself down to collapsing?” Connor’s bashful silence is enough of an answer for Carl, and the elderly painter chuckles, “Well, take a load off. There’s not much to do here for someone used to Detroit’s rhythm, but if you get too bored just give a shout to Markus, here, he’ll find you something to do.” He assures, patting his son’s forearm, “He basically runs the place anyway.”

Markus bites his lower lip at that. “Officially, I tend to the horses.”

Carl doesn’t say anything to that, just tilts his head sideways and upward at Markus in a way that says, clearly, ‘bitch please’.

Connor has to struggle not to laugh. He accompanies Markus and Carl for the time being, finally realizing why the stairs had the side-lift installed and taking in the various paintings hung around the house, some framed, some not, but all of them quite impressive.

“Have you eaten, Connor?” Markus’s voice jostles him out of his observation of a particularly pretty blue painting, “I can whip up something and you can join us for a bite, or if you want to rest after your trip you can go to your room and I can leave you something to heat up.”

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

“Then stop worrying about being a bother!” Markus exclaims, “Really, this isn’t the place to be overly polite. If you’re ever a bother, you’ll notice.” There goes another wink. _This guy_ … Connor thinks, torn between attraction and exasperation.

“At least let me help with dinner.”

 

And that’s how Connor finds himself cooking with Markus, while Carl waits for them watching some news in the dining room.

“Can you handle spicy food?”

Connor eyes the spice rack warily. “Within reason.”

“Actual spicy or white-people spicy?” Markus presses on with a cheeky smile, and it’s enough for Connor to give him a friendly shove –he might be a ‘city boy’, but he’s no pushover.

“I live with Hank Anderson. You tell me.”

“Fair enough.” The young Manfred seems to concede that point. “Spicy it is.”

As it turns out, spicy chicken and fried rice with vegetables is pretty freaking delicious after three hours on the road –Markus makes a buttload of it, likely for the other occupants of the house to find and warm up later on. Eating with Mr. Manfred and son isn’t nearly as awkward as Connor predicted: true to North’s word, Carl is a delightful man and while he does try to get to know Connor a little, he never asks anything he wouldn’t be comfortable saying; and Markus seems fine with letting Carl dominate the conversation –not in the least because Carl hardly ever gets to meet new people anymore.

Eventually, after they have their dinner, Markus ushers Carl to his studio and then offers to give Connor a proper tour of the house and set him up with the wi-fi to call Hank.

He actually stays for the first few seconds of the skype call.

_«_ _Finally, kid! I was starting to think you got lost or somethin’!_ _»_

“Sorry, dad…” Connor says, sitting on his new bed with a sigh, “Reception is lousy here, but they inserted me in their wi-fi network, now—”

“Hello, Lieutenant!”

 _«_ _Holy shit, Markus is that you?_ _»_ Hank is familiar with his impromptu guide. That’s… relieving. _«Christ, kiddo, you got tall!»_

Markus ducks his head slightly but laughs. “It’s been a few years, Lieutenant. Kids grow up.”

 _«You don’t fucking say…»_ comes as a reply, Hank obviously being… well, Hank.

“You should come visit, as well!”

_«Yeah, like I’ll ever have enough free time to do that.»_

Markus doesn’t respond to that, and instead places a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Sorry for butting in, I really wanted to say hi.” He says with an apologetic look, “I’ll leave you to your call. Goodnight, Connor.”

Connor watches him as he goes out the room. “Goodnight, Markus.”

There’s sounds from downstairs before the door closes, likely North back from her work and the other two occupants he hasn’t yet been introduced to also coming home for dinner.

Hank’s voice snaps Connor’s attention back to his smartphone. _«So? How do you like it so far?»_

“It’s… definitely not what I was expecting.”

There’s a chuckle on the other side of the line that tells him Hank knows exactly the feeling. _«Yeah, Carl and his family aren’t your average country people.»_

To say the very least. “Well… I’ve only met Carl, North and Markus so far, but they seem… nice.”

 _«Oof. North’s a real spitfire, but she’s a good gal.»_ To his credit, Hank pauses a whole two seconds before asking. _«…what do you think of Markus?»_

“Dad! Please!” Hank has been not so subtly trying to set him up with ‘good’ guys ever since his last breakup –granted, Gavin had been a huge, glaring mistake, but still… “Are you trying to set me up with a _cowboy_?”

_«I’m just sayin’… Markus is a nice kid. ‘s got pretty eyes and such.»_

No arguing that point. Coming to think of it, no arguing on the nice part either. Sure, he has a bit of a wit on him, but it’s all in good spirits. “I don’t even know if he’s into guys, dad.”

Surprisingly, Hank laughs heartily at that. _«Yeah, no trust me on this: heterochromia is the only ‘hetero’ thing about that boy.»_

Connor sputters loudly at that. “Do I even want to know how you know that?”

_«I might have had to arrest one of his ex-boyfriends once.»_

“What?!”

 _«To be fair, it wasn’t Markus’s fault. He tried to break it off, his now ex-boo didn’t take it too well, then the guy heard Markus would be visiting the city and started stalking him.»_ that’s… mildly horrifying. _«It almost went nasty at one point, but Markus being… himself, decided not to press charges. And he’s pretty much off the grid over there, so the guy went off with a slap on the wrist and a restraining order.»_

“Well… shit.”

Hank nods on his screen. _«So you two already got your shitty taste in men in common.»_ he teases, making his son blush even more, if possible. _«At least try to make friends? I want you to try and have a good time over there.»_

Oh, Hank. Connor smiles warmly at that. “I’ll try, dad.”

_«Good. Now shoo, get some sleep!»_

“Give Sumo a big hug for me!”

Call successfully ended, Connor goes to unpack his few things. It was nice of Carl to arrange for an entire chest of drawers to be completely emptied out for him, he muses as he puts away his clothes. It was also nice of Markus to give him the tour and make dinner.

From what he gathered from Mr. Manfred himself, ever since the accident he only manages the finances of the household and a few other, non-strenuous things; while Markus tends to the horses, oversees daily tasks, stock and basically everything else… and that’s on top of being Carl’s caretaker. Granted, North and the guys help him on a nearly equal level, but apparently Markus has taken on a workload heavy enough to be affectionately dubbed ‘fearless leader’ –joking that it could be his Native name, if it’s true that there’s a little bit of it in his blood.

When asked about it, Markus just shrugged and said he didn’t really remember, but that the lady from the foster place told him he was probably 1/8th Native, if anyone cared about that sort of thing.

Markus doesn’t— or rather, he would, if only any of the history had actually survived. It’s hard to care for roots you’ve never seen and that have been destroyed by modern society. Carl has been the only real family he’s ever had, before the others came along, and sometimes the elderly painter cared more about discovering and preserving Markus’s supposed heritage than he himself.

No one talked about Carl’s biological son, and Connor didn’t ask.

Slipping out of his clothes and into his pyjamas, Connor plops himself on the bed with a sigh.

First day in the countryside down, and… well, he only made a fool of himself a _little_ bit.

Now here’s to hoping his dreams won’t be plagued by a certain odd-eyed cowboy –it would be embarrassing to already be crushing so hard at first sight.

He’ll follow Hank’s advice, try and be friends –how hard can it be?


	2. in which Markus loses it over the cute city boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus isn't nearly as smooth as he pretends to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another update! Today is my last day of freedom before I gotta start my new job and I intend to enjoy it to the fullest!
> 
> Also, I'm loving writing this, however silly it might seem to get hooked on your own story, LOL.
> 
> Next chapter will cover a longer span of time, like a week or two, in which Connor will get to know everyone a bit better, especially Markus ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I've tried to do something different with the visual aid links and put them in the story at the points they're needed. Tell me if that's better or not.
> 
> Also, people who actually know about country stuff, do not hesitate to contact me and make corrections/suggestions.
> 
> I would also love some advice if there's people with Native heritage around on how to correctly weave it in Markus's character here, so feel free to reach out to me either in the comments or pm me on tumblr! :)

 Markus had been reluctant when Carl told him his friend’s son would be visiting from the city until the end of august –“Carl… we’re gonna have to babysit him and none of us have enough free time to—” he tried to object, but his father just arched an eyebrow at him and asked “Do you really think the son of my oldest and closest friend would be just another city person?”

Conceding that point, Markus promised to do his best to be accommodating and not be prejudiced; and went to tend to his horses.

Of course, it’s just his luck that when North comes to him yelling about Anderson’s son, Connor reveals himself to be absolutely, incommensurably, over-the-top cute. And his first impression of Markus is him roping around horses like a walking cliché.

He managed to avoid making an ass of himself and mitigate the stereotypical country appearance after they started talking, but he’s probably still ‘that one cowboy’ in Connor’s mind. Hopefully, today he’ll get the time to show Connor some of his paintings. Or maybe talk some more with him.

“Damn it, Markus, you’re acting like a schoolboy with a crush.” He chastises himself, but still can’t help it –Connor is training to be a detective in Detroit, how freaking cool is that? Surely he’s the type of sophisticated person that finds life in the countryside devastatingly dull, despite it not really being the case… Markus wants really bad to show Connor that things aren’t that simple, that _he_ ’s not that simple.

Letting his breath leave is mouth in one big sigh, he steps out of the shower and back into his room to dry off and get dressed. 6:15 am, his phone tells him.

Right, time to go feed the chickens.

 

Connor wakes up far more well-rested than he’d like to admit –Hank told him to take his time and sleep in, but his meticulous internal clock still hasn’t adapted to the fact that he’s on vacation now, so he’s awake and washed by 7:30 sharp.

Privately, he feels proud of himself for that. _Up and at ‘em, detective._

He steps out of the room cautiously, still feeling very much out of his element and still carrying that small nervousness of not being in your own place and not wanting to touch anything for fear of fucking it up. Markus’s tour was efficient and clear, and he finds his way into the kitchen easily enough.

“Connor! Good morning! I was just telling Josh and Simon about you!” despite there being three chairs at the kitchen’s breakfast bar, North is sitting on the counter while a blonde guy heats up some bacon in a pan, and another guy is already at the breakfast bar, eating happily.

They raise their hands in turns, the blond one saying “Simon!” and the other obviously being “Josh.”

What is it with this place only having hot people in it? Connor can’t be 100% sure, but from what he can see of Carl now, he was probably quite the looker in his youth as well. And a bad boy, if the full sleeve tattoos are anything to go by.

Is this what the countryside does to people? He shakes his head, hoping he just appeared still half asleep. “Hello. My name is Connor.”

“Oh gosh, you always say it with the same tone, you’re so cute!” North hops off the counter to hug him –to his surprise, she is actually strong enough to lift him off the floor for a couple seconds.

It startles a laugh out of him –people in Detroit definitely are not this wholesome. “Please warn me next time you do that.”

Josh coos from his stool: “Aww, he didn’t ask you _not_ to do that! He likes you!”

North returns to her perch with a huff: “Bitch, Connor is gonna be my _bestie_ , I’ll be his wing-woman and he’s gonna make all you country boys lose your _shit_.”

Connor has a second of embarrassment at the unexpected disclosure, but not only does North seem like the type of girl who wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t safe, Josh and Simon also do not call much attention to it other than chuckling and Simon commenting “Hide your husbands, ladies~” from his post at the stove –it makes him stifle a laugh actually.

Grabbing an extra plate, and piling it with bacon and eggs, Simon nudges Connor towards one of the stools. “Come on! You’re up earlier than we thought you’d be, you must be hungry!”

He accepts the plate and the seat gratefully. “Well, I usually wake up at this time in Detroit too, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Oh, good!” Josh comments, wolfing down the rest of his eggs, “Now, I’m sure you’ve got questions… ask away!”

Connor does, in fact, have a shitload of questions. He swallows a bite and goes for the most obvious one: “So, what do you guys do around here?”

Being the one who has already finished eating, Josh does the explaining: “I’m the shepherd, I take care of the sheep and help Markus with the horses when he has to take care of Carl; North is our mechanic, she tends all things electrical around here and can fix anything –if it got wheels, she knows it, if it doesn’t? Eh, she’ll have a look at it. Simon is our jack of all trades –he helps around the house and with Carl, he makes sure we’re all stocked up on stuff together with Markus; and he keeps up with Carl’s trading.”

Right. He’s seen the cattle and the chicken coop, but there was no greenhouse or vegetable garden –possibly because it would be too much of a hassle to maintain on top of caring for Carl and all his other activities. There’s for sure enough green around that the whole ranch looks like a garden, but no specifically purposed ones seem to have been set up –so it’s likely that Carl sells milk from the sheep, eggs from the chicken and buys produce and vegetables instead.

Connor absorbs the information as he eats silently, going for the next elephant in the room. “How did you guys meet the Manfreds?”

Again, Josh provides the information with a smile. “I grew up here –my folks passed away when I was little and I didn’t want to go live in Detroit to my aunt’s, so Carl took me in since he was best friends with my mom and dad…”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nah, it’s okay, it was a long time ago.” Josh assures, making the rounds, “North is actually from Detroit, she studied engineering there and eventually got pissed that people in the city wouldn’t believe a girl mechanic could be as good as a boy, so she moved here when Carl put out a job advert on the paper. Joke's on those Detroit people, though, ‘cause she’s the best goddamn mechanic you’ll ever find.”

“Damn right I am!” she says, in-between mouthfuls and still perched on the counter.

Connor chuckles. Slowly but surely, these guys are making him get acquainted with them and feel less awkward and more at ease. He turns to their blonde chef. “And you, Simon?”

“I got a hospitality degree, and really, really wanted to manage ranch in a nice, green place.” He answers with a shrug, “I’m basically living out my childhood dream here. Carl is sweet, caring and he pays well. The best boss you could ever possibly hope to work for in these parts.”

Finishing off her plate, North hops down from her perch and leans on the breakfast bar. “Your turn now, _detective_ Anderson!”

The sheer excitement in her voice makes Connor equal parts bashful and amused. “It’s not really that exciting…”

“Sure it is! Have you ever seen a dead body?”

He thinks about the morgue unit lesson. “Well, yeah…”

“So cool!”

That gets him full on laughing. “Yeah it’s really not.” He shakes his head, “It was at a demonstration of an autopsy procedure. The smell alone had four people leave the room. One of them got bad enough that they rushed to the bathroom to throw up.” He recounts, shaking his head, “Not exactly a breakfast topic.” He finishes with a wink.

“This is the best, oh Markus is gonna be so sorry to have missed it!” North exclaims, which, while weird –he can’t see why Markus would be fascinated with dead people– does bring Connor’s attention to the young Manfred’s absence.

“When does Markus get up?”

There’s a full-on beat of silence; then North goes into hysterics, gasping out something that sounds like “Oh you sweet child”, Simon follows suit, more discreetly, and Josh pats Connor amicably on the back.

“It’s okay, you couldn’t have known…” he assures, with a gentle expression not too different from Carl’s own and his son’s, “Markus gets up at half past five to start up breakfast for Carl, then he goes to feed the chickens, make sure the horses have hay and water, take them out for a morning run, and then comes back to wake up Carl and help him with his morning routines.”

A voice sounding suspiciously like Hank’s asks if Markus could possibly be _any_ more perfect, in Connor’s mind. He works hard, cares for the animals _and_ is a dutiful son? Come on!

Connor is so weak. “Really?”

“Yeah he’s a pretty amazing person.” Simon confirms, as he starts to gather up the now empty plates, “I used to have a bit of a crush on him— oh thank you!” he interrupts himself when Connor moves to help with the washing up, “—But we’re basically brothers now.”

Josh snorts as he gets up, “Yeah I think everyone from here to South Haven used to have a crush on Markus at some point or other!”

“Except me and you, straight-boy.” North jabs good-naturedly, bumping her hips into her friend’s side.

They all really seem to have a great dynamic. “Speaking of Markus…” Simos gets Connor’s attention again with a slight nudge, “He’ll be back soon to take care of Carl and then show you around some more. I can keep you company while we wait for him, and if you get too bored there’s literally a shit-ton of stuff to do… if Markus isn’t around to ask to, you can come to any of us for anything. You got it?”

And they seem genuinely trying to make him feel welcome. Connor nods with a smile. “Got it.”

In the time he spends waiting with Simon, Connor learns that the nearest town is Fennville, counting little more than 1300 people, and that Hutchins lake is close enough if the weather is so hot that going for a dip might well save them from sunstroke –the main house has AC, but considering the amount of time all of them spend outside, Connor can definitely see the appeal.

He also learns that Carl’s biological son, Leo, is never around and a bit of a shithead –he and Markus don’t get along and Leo sometimes went as far as implying that Markus was Carl’s _boy toy_ when he got vitriolic enough. Needless to say, all of them hate Leo’s guts and can scarcely understand how both Carl and Markus still waste their breath trying to get Leo to come around.

The next ranch over is Kara’s –she is another close friend and a veritable gardening prodigy, she lives there with her boyfriend Luther and his mother Rose. Her sister Isabelle is the same Isabelle North mentioned as her girlfriend, then she has a little kid named Alice, and Luther has a brother named Adam.

It will be a task and a half, processing all of this new information –but that’s what Connor does best, and he catalogues every name and detail in his mind as best as he can. He’s still sitting on the porch with Simon when Markus and the horses come back.

Connor is trying really, _really_ hard not to think in clichés but _sweet mother of God_ there’s a cowboy riding a spotty appaloosa without a saddle surrounded by nine more horses and his heart can’t take it. It looks so tender when he gets off the horse and puts his entire face against its muzzle, giving it scratchies and whispered coos before tugging slightly on the reins and ushering all the horses in the open enclosure first, and then into the barn in pairs.

 

Before exiting the barn, Markus takes the time to internally freak out. Damn it, Simon, he’s sweaty and gross and there’s probably dirt stains on his jeans, why did he have to bring Connor’s perfectly pristine figure out to the porch to wait for him? So much for making a cleaner impression.

This is his life now. Oh well.

He puts on his best smile once he steps out. “Good morning, Connor!” he greets, trying very hard not to stare too much at his cute little smile, “Sleep well?”

Connor seems to hesitate just for a second, before answering: “Better than I have in months, thank you.”

Oh he’s so cute. His hair bounces slightly when he nods, and Markus wonders how it would feel to run his hands through it. He clears his voice and sneaks a glance at Simon. “These guys annoyed you out of bed?”

“So distrustful!” Simon quips, “I’ll have you know, Connor was already up and helped me wash dishes after breakfast of his own volition!”

That’s surprisingly promising. Markus is the first to admit his wrongs; and when he heard about a boy his age from the city, he imagined someone who would sleep in late and complain about the lack of technology –Connor, instead, has so far turned out to be incredibly accommodating and very pleasant to be around.

And cute. _Oh God_ he’s so cute. “Really?” he brings himself to answer, with only a slight bit of teasing in his voice, “There’s more to you than meets the eye, then.” And boy, the eye does not go wanting, so that’s saying something alright.

“Adapting to people and circumstances is the first quality of a good detective.” Is all Connor says with a cheeky smile and a wink –right, that’s it, Markus has to get away before he literally makes a fool of himself in front of this beauty.

He clears his voice again. “I have to go wake up Carl. Feel free to get settled a little and hang out… then you can follow me around for a bit if you’ve got nothing to do.”

Leaving the two with a hasty goodbye and a friendly punch on the shoulder by Simon –Markus _really_ doesn’t like the knowing look on his friend’s face, it spells trouble for all involved and embarrassment for him specifically– he goes back into the house.

 

“Good morning, Carl. It’s 10 am.” He chuckles at his father’s slightly grumpy return of that greeting, “Weather’s 86°, so drink plenty of water today and make sure you don’t spend too much time in the studio.”

Carl lets himself be picked up by Markus and carried to the bathroom. “How’s Connor settling in?” he asks while his son helps him wash.

“Well enough, I’d say. North says she already loves him and will kick the shit out of anyone who tries to hurt him, so there’s that.” Markus says, with a smile and a tilt of the head, “He’s with Simon right now, but I’m gonna take him with me once Simon has to go.”

Simon is the second person to spend the most time with Carl –not being on animal duty, he has the most free time; and can call Markus at a moment’s notice should anything be wrong; and he can do most of his tasks anywhere in the house, so keeping Carl company in the meantime is not a bother at all.

Truth is, Carl considers them all his children before they are his employees, and the feeling is very much mutual. He sighs contentedly as Markus helps him get dressed –despite all the tragic and bad things happening, the accident, the loss of his wife and of the use of his legs, Carl feels truly blessed to have found these people to call his family.

Now if only he could get Markus to talk about all those looks he kept sneaking at Hank’s boy while believing he was being subtle about it…

“He’s a very sweet boy, be kind to him.” He remarks, letting his son lower him back into his wheelchair, “Hank told me he works very hard, and never really made time for himself to make friends. Remind you of anyone?”

Markus smiles at the jab, shaking his head with a warning tone. “Carl…”

“I’m just saying. You two would get along.”

That’s fair. His attraction to Connor notwithstanding, the younger Anderson really seems very sweet and Markus does feel like they could get along just fine.

Eventually, Simon has to get to work and he and Carl will go over spreadsheets together, so Markus walks up to Connor and calls him in with a gentle touch to the elbow. “Do you feel like going out for a bit?”

The other seems slightly taken off-guard, but nods with an earnest smile. “Sure!”

So pure. Markus can barely hold back a smile on his own by biting his lips. “You ever been on a horse?”

Connor shrugs his shoulder, seemingly in an attempt to make himself smaller –which won’t really work, he’s nearly as tall as Markus is. “I’ve never even seen one this up close.”

Well, they’ll have to right this terrible, terrible wrong. “Come, then. I’ll teach you how to ride.”

 

Now that he’s better prepared for the weather, Connor has opted for a light cotton t-shirt and a pair of lightweight grey jeans, so he actually doesn’t feel like he sticks out too much next to Markus as he ushers two horses outside the barn, even as they still remain in the enclosure.

“This is Bubble Butt, Bubble for short.” The name makes Connor laugh, but he can see the reason behind it –the [spotty appaloosa](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9b/THIEL_619.jpg) is almost entirely brown in the front, and only its behind and part of its hind legs are a stark white with scattered brown spots. “She’s very gentle and likes the saddle well enough if we have to use it.”

“ _If_ you have to?”

Markus makes a non-committal hum. “We train some of them to be race horses, and follow-up with anyone who buys them to make sure they’re treated well, but…” he drops his eyes and sounds wistful, “If it was for me, I wouldn’t even bother with the bit.”

Connor was admittedly a bit distracted with petting the horse’s neck, but he notices the drop in his new friend’s mood. “Oh?”

“Yeah, you know how some people talk about ‘breaking’ horses? As in breaking their spirit first, wrangle them into submission?” the distaste in Markus’s voice at the concept is so evident it might as well be dripping from his mouth, “That’s bullshit. I can ride and take care of all of these horses because _they let me_. They know I’m a friend. And they know to trust anyone I trust.”

Something tells Connor that the Manfred family is extremely selective about who gets to buy their horses. It makes him smile –having a Saint Bernard at home isn’t nearly the same as caring for an entire herd of horses, but Hank always liked animals and that love got easily inherited by Connor.

While saddling Bubble Butt, Markus also introduces another horse to him, the [mustang](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/parody/images/1/10/Mustang-horse-images-212.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20160822032601) with the [white tail](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/dd/88/5d/dd885d81c380f6eb9ea04d4b5559368f.jpg). His name is Ra, like the Egyptian god, and he’s Markus’s favorite, his pride and joy –and, obviously, not for sale. Connor listens intently to Markus and his ideas on proper animal care, what is and isn’t okay and how people should still respect every living creature’s dignity.

This is definitely not your run-of-the-mill cowboy.

“…so really horseshoes are okay, because if you’re good at applying them you actually don’t really cause any pain to the horse and prevent their hooves from suffering damage if they’re riding a lot on hard terrain, keep out infections and such…” he trails off when he realizes Connor hasn’t said anything for a while, “Sorry, Am I boring you? I probably am…”

“No!” Connor rushes to say, reaching out a hand to pat Markus’s wrist reassuringly –the tiny beaded bracelet and other wristbands he wears feel funny under Connor’s fingertips, and Markus’s skin is so very warm, “No, you’re not… it’s… endearing.”

“Endearing. Right.” It’s probably not the adjective a grown man would like to be described with, but baby steps. “Okay, so you hold your hand here, step into the stirrup with your foot, pull yourself up and swing the other foot to the other side.” He instructs, “Make it one swift movement; it’ll be easier for you and less of a bother for her.” Hesitating just a second, he looks at Connor and adds: “You can hold onto me if you’re not sure about balance.”

Connor briefly ponders the idea of playing up his clumsiness for an excuse to hold onto Markus, but he figures the cowboy would appreciate a competent individual more than a cheap touch –and he also kind of wants to prove that he’s more than just the ‘city boy’. So he follows Markus’s instructions, gets his foot into the correct position, and heaves himself on the saddle.

As far as first steps go, it’s not too terribly hard. Still, he enjoys the impressed little smile Markus gives him. “Very good.” He comments, walking over to Ra and giving abundant scratchies to the sides of his face, before gently tangling a hand in his mane and jumping onto his back with ease.

Ra has a good set of horseshoes, but no saddle and no bridle.

“Ready?” when Markus turns to smile at Connor, the future detective thinks _he_ may as well be the Egyptian god, what with the sun shining on his face just so as he extends an arm towards him, “Give me Bubble’s reins… I’ll steer her for you for the first couple of steps, you’ll be perfectly safe the whole time.”

Connor doesn’t doubt that. They make half a lap of the enclosure like that, side by side at a slow gait –Markus shows a good deal of balance and strength, riding like he is, one hand in Ra’s mane in the absence of reins, the other outstretched to the side and slightly behind him, to reassure Bubble about her new friend.

“There…” he says after a while, “She got used to you, she’ll let you ride her.”

Connor blinks as he is handed the reins, and tries not to change anything in his posture. Even after not being steered by her owner anymore, the appaloosa doesn’t seem bothered by Connor’s presence, and carries on with her strut.

“See?” Markus’s voice is equal parts kindness and amusement, “You’ll be a pro in no time!”

“Here’s to hoping!” Connor comments, hoping the slight break in his voice wasn’t that evident –he doesn’t know whether he can actually survive more of those smiles. He immerses himself in learning how to ride, Markus is actually a very patient and good teacher, explaining how to spur and direct the horses with feet nudges and weight shifts, and by the time an hour passes Connor can safely walk _and_ go at a gentle trot. He also becomes aware of how silent everything around them is… but no, silent is not the right word, there’s plenty of sound –the horses, the chickens from the coop, other sounds of miscellaneous housework coming from the house, North working on the far side, in the garage while blasting some good music in her headphones, if the enthusiastic but slightly off-key singing coming every now and then is anything to go by. It’s just not the incessant cacophony of the city, the blaring horns, the constant traffic, the giant screens, the speakers everywhere… yes, after being buried in academic work for the better part of his last year and basically living and breathing his textbooks, Connor has to admit this feels like heaven.

Would he live his whole life here? Probably not… but a good month and a half in a place like this will probably be a healing balm on his body and soul before diving into the hyper-busy detective life.

Well done, Hank.

And, chancing a look at his impromptu horse riding instructor, Connor has to admit, at least to himself: he wants to hit that so bad it makes his head spin.

Markus jumps off Ra with a flourish that makes Connor think he might be showing off a little, then pulls his cellphone out of his back pocket and points it at him. “Hey Connor! Smile for the camera!”

He is slightly taken off-guard and surely his hair is a mess, but Markus seems happy with himself. “I’ve taken a couple, so you can choose which one you like best and send it to Hank.”

Oh. That was nice –Connor doesn’t have many pictures of himself, what with Hank being the only person in his life who would want to take any, so he’s not too used at the whole ‘taking pictures of everything’ thing, ironically enough.

He ignores Markus’s offered helping hand to get off Bubble, jumping down on his own and high-fiving him instead. His host chuckles. “Look at you, already getting cocky.”

“I had a good teacher.” Connor says with a wink and holy shit, he can’t believe how well he’s holding it together— there’s just something about Markus. Despite being insanely good looking to the point that just looking at his face is intimidating, his mannerism and overall attitude is just so calming and peaceful that even though they just met yesterday, Connor already feels like he’s bantering with an old friend.

But despite managing to retain his levels of sass, Connor still feels weak for Markus’s warm chuckle. “Come. Let’s go take some more pictures, this place is beautiful.” He suggests, opening the enclosure and bringing the horses with them, “I can send you yours once we’re back at the house, but it’d be a shame not to give you the full tour.”

The Manfred [ranch](https://trophyclassrealestate.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/photo-1-e1522959974485.jpg) is [indeed](https://cdn.ranchflip.com/photos/124290/136-acres-in-the-heart-of-michigan-vanderbilt-vlg-otsego-county-michigan-124290-usKo5c-XL.jpg) beautiful, what with all the [green landscapes](https://www.duderanch.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ranch-rudolf-michigan-horses.jpg) and open [spaces](http://leelanauconservancy.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/Randall_Soares_DanandMelissaPhotography_MorganandJames302_0_low-576x306.jpg) –Connor breathes deeply in and out; he probably won’t breathe air so clean in many other places— and he does snap quite a few pictures, until Markus suggests, since they’re out with the horses, to hop on their backs and trot their way to the pasture, maybe see how Josh is doing.

The resident shepherd is currently sitting on a fallen tree edging the pond the sheep sometimes come close to drink from, most of the little creatures foraging or doing their own thing; and a gorgeous husky dog with a blue eye and a brown one keeping watch. Some of the sheep are startled by Connor’s presence and skitter away, but none run too far off.

Still, his attention is immediately captivated by the dog as soon as they get off the horses. “Hey you!” he whisper-calls, in his most soothing voice, “Hi… hi…” he holds out his hands looks sideways at Markus for a name.

“Meeko.”

“…Meeko!” Connor finishes, and the dog starts subtly wagging his tail –he’s on duty, so he resists the temptation to play around, but he’s not completely ignoring Connor, who in the meantime, has an epiphany: “…like Skyrim’s Meeko?”

Markus doesn’t immediately answer. “Maybe.”

Not so different after all. He hides his amusement by carefully approaching Meeko for scratchies –the husky sniffs him warily for a couple of seconds, then licks one of his hands and accepts the scratchies. It doesn’t last long, Meeko gets up and goes to bark at some sheep who were straying a little too far from the group, but Connor feels loved nonetheless. “He’s beautiful.” He comments, standing back up, “His eyes are gorgeous.”

“Damn, I have to step up my game.”  Connor doesn’t immediately get it, but when he does he’s mortified –heterochromia is not that rare in husky dogs, surely not as rare as it is in freaking humans, and he just commented on Meeko’s eyes to the guy with green and blue eyes! Something must show on his face, because Markus laughs and claps him on a shoulder. “Relax; I’m just messing with you a little bit!”

Connor crosses his arms. “If you wanted me to compliment your eyes you could have asked.” He quips, finding sass a very useful tool to hide his embarrassment.

“Nah, that would sound insincere. Here.” Without another word, Markus hands him Bubble’s reins and walks forward to go talk to Josh. “Yo!! Got it under control here?”

Ah, so even the placid and serene Markus hollers at his friends when on the job.

From afar, he can see Josh make a motion with his head that indicates rolling his eyes. “No, I’m tanning!” he quips at first, which sends Markus into giggles for very obvious reasons, “I got it, Mark, you go make your rounds!”

At first, Connor was nervous about being left alone with two horses –Bubble he could sort of hold back by the reins, but what if Ra got scared by something and decided to run?

His worry is, however, unfounded, because the mustang starts sniffling at his shoulder and being generally affectionate. Now, that’s very endearing and all, but horses are freaking huge and one kick and crack a grown man’s skull open. Connor understandably goes stock still, even as Ra starts softly chewing at him on his shoulder and up towards his neck.

“M-Markus?!” he calls, not quite sure of what to do, but luckily the resident cowboy is instantly by his side, gently coaxing the mustang to leave him alone.

“You like him? You like him?” crisis adverted; Connor thoroughly enjoys the adorableness that is Markus whispering to his horses. As sneakily as he possibly can, he starts recording a video and points his phone at Markus. “Yeah, you like Connor, don’t you? You’re a good boy. I like Connor too, he’s my new friend! You like your new friend, baby?”

Oh, Connor’s heart is melting and not just because Markus said he likes him. Mismatched eyes snap back to him when Markus feels the spying eye of the camera. “Hey!” he protests, but makes no move to obscure the lens or get him to stop –he does however, drop a kiss on the side of Ra’s long nose and then walk on his other side to hop on. “Let’s go back, shall we?”

Connor stops his video and mounts back on Bubble as well.

 

Morning chores done, they all have a quick lunch –a very quick one in North’s case, who comes running in, shoves some food in a Tupperware box and takes off with a “Gotta go, bye!” –when Connor tilts his head to stare at the direction the blonde, braided flurry disappeared into, trying to figure out what just happened, Simon just mouths ‘Isabelle’ at him.

Oh, she’s going to have lunch out with her girlfriend— that’s cute. Connor would love to have a romantic lunch out…damn it, why do his eyes keep straying back towards Markus?! He spends the rest of lunchtime stubbornly focused on his food.

The afternoon passes in a similar fashion to the morning –Markus takes some time to care for Carl, taking him to the studio and staying here with him for a while, and Connor finds himself roaming around until he reaches Simon again.

“Hey, do you have anything for me to do?”

“Well, we take turns doing chores, but I wouldn’t want you to—” Simon gets interrupted by watching Connor flick a quarter in his hands in a seemingly effortless way.

“I don’t mind chores, really.” He assures, flicking the coin from one hand to the other, “I’m used to doing them back home and I can’t stay still for too long.”

“That’s a neat trick.” The blonde comments, as Connor catches the quarter one last time to pocket it. He blinks the surprise away and nods, “Fair enough, you can come around with me and I’ll show you things you can do for the next couple of hours. Once you’re done you can just do whatever… there’s a huge piano in the lounge if you play, or you can go ask Markus to lend you one of his sketchbooks.”

“He draws?”

Simon laughs heartily at that. “Understatement of the century!” he comments, “Markus is Carl’s most precious pupil, if anything. But if neither of that is your thing, you can ask Josh to hang out in his room, he’s got a good selection of videogames, even though our connection is mildly crap so I wouldn’t recommend the multiplayer ones.”

Sounding more and more like a decent place to spend the summer. Connor joins Simon in his laughter. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

He does end up having a quick Mario Kart session with Josh, who absolutely demolishes him the first two rounds, but Connor manages to get one up on him at the last moment, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. He really needed a quiet, wholesome place to stay in, both to recover from overstressing and to forget all about Gavin and his stupid, two-faced, cheating ass.

By the end of the evening, Markus does send him the pictures from the morning and they exchange contacts –Connor learns that Markus also has an Instagram account and vows to follow him for more beautiful country pictures _and_ art– so he is able to send all the photos to Hank by the time they video-call on Skype.

_«See? You already have some more color on your face.»_

“I think that’s a mild sunburn, dad.”

Hank doesn’t seem too worried as he chuckles, _«Why do you think they wear the hats?»_

In all honesty, Markus hadn’t worn the hat today, and neither did Josh –but they’re both dark skinned and less susceptible to sunburn. North wears a baseball cap almost permanently glued to her head and Simon doesn’t spend as much time outside as the other two. “Did you like the picture with the horses?”

_«You look like a natural, son!»_

Connor smiles at the memory. “That’s the same thing Markus said.” The change in his father’s expression makes him immediately regret opening his mouth.

He knows Hank will ask. _«So did he take the picture?»_

“…yes.”

_«You guys have a nice date?»_

Damn it, Hank. Connor shakes his head. “He just showed me around the place. The horses like me, it seems, and he was nice to me, for what it’s worth.”

 _«Of course he was nice to you, I’d be coming for his sorry hide if he wasn’t!»_ Hank gruffs, only interrupted by Sumo barking and trying to clamber over his chair.

“Sumo! Sumo, here!”

With a little bit of coaxing from Hank, the Saint Bernard manages to see Connor’s face on the laptop, and promptly attempts to lick the screen.

Both father and soon agree that it’s a good time as any to end the call.

Second day in, and… Connor is seriously considering taking North up on her offer to be a wing-woman.

They’re taking him out on the town tomorrow, so that’s something to look forward to, at least.


	3. in which Connor is much more than just a city boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor discovers Markus is a pacifist.  
> North believes it to be slightly bullshit.  
> Connor kind of agrees with North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is absolutely self-indulgent and I will not apologize one bit for it.
> 
> Seriously, watch the video you find in the link down in the scene, imagine Markus doing that.  
> YOU'RE WELCOME.
> 
> Also Connor kicking some ass, like he usually does. I'm North in that scene. "My baby boy, kicking the shit out of people! <3 "
> 
> Either way... take this. It's nearly midnight here and tomorrow is my first dat at the new job.  
> Updates will become a bit slower, but I'm definitely still here and continuing! ♥

 

Day three on the Manfred ranch starts very much like day two: Connor gets up reasonably early, has breakfast with North and the guys, spends some time lounging around until Markus comes back to do his rounds and his chores –this time, Connor offers to help and Markus lets him, not without a pit stop to North’s room to ask her for some of her SPF 50+ to avoid turning the young Anderson into a fried lobster.

So for the day Connor learns how convince a horse to go back into the barn after exercising –well, he mostly watches Markus do it, but Bubble likes him well enough to follow him when he tries, so he counts that as a win– then he learns how to move hay bales without pulling out his back in the process, and how to top up the water feeder.

It’s hard work, especially under the sun, but all work is hard, and Connor doesn’t complain. He messed up a few times at first, but Markus was patient and understanding, and explained it whenever he did something wrong and how to fix it.

“Here.” Markus hands him a water bottle once they’re done, leaning against the wooden fence in the barn’s shadow, “Hydrate yourself.”

Connor accepts the drink gratefully, unscrews the cap and takes a big gulp… right as Markus uses the hem of his t-shirt to wipe sweat off his face, inadvertently giving him a very advantageous view of his entire torso. It takes a good deal of control for Connor not to choke on the water he was drinking –but Markus does catch him looking. “…yes?”

“Uh…” brain, don’t do this now, you can process so many things at once, you’re a _detective_ , come on! “Um, here, you drink some too.” Good enough.

Markus doesn’t seem to have noticed his little blunder, and readily accepts the water back. “Fuck yes, thanks.”

Aaaand here’s a sex god throwing his head back and drinking like he’s a model in a commercial. Connor averts his eyes. He basically just saw Markus shirtless— there are freckles on his chest, too— he kind of wants to lick them— he wonders what Markus’s skin would taste like—

Stop it, brain!

Oh who is he kidding, it’s an image that accompanies him for the rest of the day, even after Markus goes to spend time with Carl and he joins North in her workshop for a change.

“So!” she says, from the inside of the pick-up truck’s hood –she’s doing nothing big, just some ‘topping up’ to make sure everything’s good, she said, Markus doesn’t really drive that often so it’s up to her to make sure the truck’s working, “The guys have been good to you, yes?”

Connor is not entirely comfortable talking at her behind –it is quite literally the only thing visible from her position under the hood, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Yeah, both Simon and Josh have been a huge help in getting me settled in.”

“Uh-huh…” she hums in satisfaction, before finally emerging from the truck’s hood, grabbing a rag and smirking knowingly as she tries to clean the worst of the grease off her hands. “…and Markus?”

Markus has a body that would put most guys in Detroit to shame and a face to match.

North clapping loudly and bending over in laughter startles Connor, thinking she lost it for a second, before he realizes: “Shit, I said that out loud?”

“My baby, all grown up and liking boys.” She wipes a fake tear from her eyes.

He groans at her. “Come on!”

“I’m joking! I’m just joking!” she assures, patting his forearm and accidentally leaving some grease on him, “Shit, sorry, here!”

Connor takes the rag and cleans the worst off, but he doesn’t really mind it that much. “…is it that obvious?”

“Honest?” she asks, turning briefly to close the truck’s hood and sit against it. “Just a little –if you know what you look for.” She pauses, and a fond if slightly exasperated smile finds its way on her lips, “Unless you’re Markus, the horse-whisperer who literally spends more time with animals than humans!”

“Hey, come on, he’s not that bad…”

“Three days, and already you’re defending him! It must be _love_!” North makes a show of bringing both hands to her chest like a daydreaming maiden –which is a completely out of character look on her and leaves Connor quite disturbed. But she does manage to make him feel less tense about his gigantic crush on Markus and even offers to give him tips on how to get their favorite cowboy’s attention.

 

Come the evening, they wish Carl a good sleep and head out for the Saturday, even though Markus keeps checking his phone, just in case his father will wake up and need something –Josh is driving the truck, they let Connor have shotgun on account of being their guest, and Markus sits behind the driver, while Simon tells him a little about Fennville –there’s absolutely sweet fuck all in the town. Isabelle works at the garage North gets her spare parts from –that’s how they met— then there’s one or two bed & breakfast-like places, a few pubs, a bar that stays open a bit later into the night… and that’s about it.

“But hey, Roots does have a mechanical bull, so that’s something fun at least!” Simon gives a slight nudge to Connor’s seat, “Wanna test your might?”

Connor looks at him like he’s crazy. “I learned how to ride yesterday.”

“Yeah, and Markus said you’re a natural!”

“I’m sure he was just being nice—”

“Hey.” For the first time since boarding the truck, Markus speaks up, locking eyes with Connor through the rear-view mirror and… yes, Meeko will forgive us but Markus’s eyes are definitely prettier. “I don’t give undue praise. You’ve been doing excellently for a beginner.”

Simon applauds and even Josh smacks his hand a couple times on the steering wheel as they pull up to their destination: “Spoken like a true Leader!”

North preceded them on her motorcycle; it’s leaning against it that they find her just outside of the Roots restaurant and bar, leaning against another girl who’s hugging her at the waist.

Wow. Isabelle doesn’t look like a biker girl, with her nice blouse with a knot at the end and frilly denim skirt… but then you take one look at her black lace-up boots and you know that she drives a proper motorbike –if Connor had to guess, he’d say it’s the silver Harley parked right next to North’s baby with the lovely baby pink helmet on it.

It figures, that someone who catches North attention is a person who is much more than just their looks.

“’Sup nerds?” the blonde greets them, then gestures to her girlfriend: “Connor, Isabelle, Isabelle, Connor.”

“Hello.” He goes into his standard greeting out of habit, “My name is Connor.” He stops short when North hides her face in her girlfriend’s neck for a second, muttering something that sounds like “so fucking cute every time, I can’t!”

Isabelle has jet black hair and hazel eyes, a veritable 50s pin-up hourglass figure and generous curves –Connor’s attention goes to her arms, of all things: as someone owning a garage, Isabelle definitely has a strong physique, however feminine her curves make her compared to someone slimmer and more androgynous like North. “Hi Connor...” she holds it in for about a second, before enveloping him in a predictably strong hug, letting out words all in one breath: “Oh gosh North was right you’re so cute hi I’ll be your new mom!”

The guys behind him are no help at all, laughing or chuckling at the display, but she lets him go soon enough. Markus puts a hand on his shoulder and leans forward to explain: “Isabelle is the eldest out of the five of us; we call her ‘momma duck’ on occasion, mostly whenever she calls one of us ‘ducky’.”

“And you guys better listen to your momma duck and be good to my new baby, got it?” Isabelle orders, hands on her hips in a mock threat, before they all have a good laugh about it and enter the bar.

True to Simon’s words, there is indeed a mechanical bull in the center of the room, even though nobody’s trying their luck at the moment. Connor gets ushered to a table by his new friends and all of them order either drinks, food or both –Josh, the designated driver for the night, chooses soda to quench his thirst while most of the others opt for simple beer.

“I think I’ll keep Josh company.” He says, not being much of a drinker, what with Hank’s past problems and all.

“Nice! Someone to give me a hand when I’ll have to wrangle drunk idiots in the truck!” Josh praises, offering a high-five that Connor readily accepts.

The evening is mostly a pleasant round of decent music, good drinks, better food and even better company, until a group of four or so guys come through the door and their attention seems immediately trained on Markus.

“Yo, Manfred!”

Markus rolls his eyes with a tiredness on his face that tells Connor this is definitely not the first time he gets accosted by these idiots. “What?”

The one that looks like the ‘leader’ of this group of shitheads curls his lips in a sneer. “Ah, so you still pretend that’s your name!”

Markus’s fist clench on the table, but North is the first one to verbally lash out: “Why don’t you assholes go about your business and get the fuck away from us?!”

“Ooh, scary, the she-male is telling us off!”

Ah, so they’re not just assholes, they’re discriminating, ignorant, homophobic assholes.

“North, keep it together. No fighting.” Markus’s voice is low, but there’s an edge to it that makes it sound almost like an order. She shakes her head with a huff and turns to whisper to Connor:

“Markus doesn’t like to fight. He could probably kick these morons’ asses blindfolded and with a hand tied behind his back, but he’s too fucking nice for that.”

Unfortunately, her action makes the intruder’s attention turn to Connor himself –of course: in a small town where everyone knows everyone, a new face is a novelty, for better or worse.

“Take a load of the twink, guys!” alpha idiot says, tilting his head at Markus again, “You hired him to play with you or something, Manfred?”

Markus stands up and turns, mismatched eyes clearly angry but trying to keep a calm demeanor. “I believe North just gave you some very good advice. Why don’t you carry on?”

“I’m not taking orders from your gay ass.”

“Pansexual.” Markus corrects the guy in front of him without missing a beat. “And how it _burns_ you that you’re not taking anything even _remotely close_ to my ass, you pathetic repressed thug.”

“Listen here you son of a bitch—” said thug grabs Markus by the collar and Connor just acts: he stands up as well and places a hand over the one that just fisted in Markus’s shirt.

“I think you’re done here, gentlemen.” He says, in his best detective voice. “Please, move along.”

Alpha idiot turns to beta idiot with a laugh. “Oh look, guys, the twink thinks he can tell us what to do!”

Attention successfully moved from Markus to him, Connor is now the next target.

“Connor—” Markus tries to talk, possibly to attempt placating the situation, but alpha idiot now has decided to pick on Connor.

“How about you go sit back down before I rearrange your face?” The moron in question asks, to the goading of his buddies.

Still holding onto the guy’s closed fist, Connor tilts his head innocently. “Are you threatening me? Assault is a misdemeanor in the state of Michigan, punishable according to—”

Alpha idiot’s other hand goes to try and grab Connor by the shoulder. “You think I fucking care? I’m gonna—”

But that is precisely the moment Connor grabs the offending appendage, twists it into a lever, and then sidesteps behind the guy, bringing the locked joint with him and further twisting alpha idiot’s arm behind his back. “Like I was saying, assault is a misdemeanor in the state of Michigan, punishable according to the Penal Code with up to 93 days in jail and a fine of up to $500, article 750.81.”

“Wh—what the hell?!” alpha idiots chokes out, while idiots beta, gamma and delta clearly have no idea what to do with their pack leader incapacitated “Are you some kind of cop?!”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Connor bluffs slightly –he’s technically still a trainee, but he knows the law and these guys tried to assault Markus first, and him after, “I’m a little bit out of my jurisdiction, but I’m sure I won’t struggle to find a colleague to whom hand your sorry rear-ends.” alpha idiot tries to turn and lash out, but a little bit of additional pressure on the lever _discourages_ him immediately, “I’d say it’s time to _move along_ and let us enjoy our meal.” He hisses, turning his head to address the other three idiots, still flabbergasted at the ‘twink’ that just immobilized a guy twice his size, “Isn’t it, _gentlemen_?”

“Absolutely.”

“Yeah, sure. Meals. Gentlemen. And stuff.”

Connor lets alpha idiot go, and he has no choice but to follow his friends, who are already scrambling away to the other end of the pub, not even looking in their direction anymore.

He chances a look back at their table and bites back a little self-satisfied smile. Josh and Simon are openly gaping, Isabelle has both her hands curled at her chest like a proud mom, and North is yet again wiping away fake tears.

“My beautiful baby boy!!!” she eventually exclaims, extending both hands towards him to wordlessly request a hug, “Kicking ass and taking names! Come to North!” he goes willingly.

“Connor, that was awesome!” Josh concurs, while North hugs him to her breasts and pats the side of his head like an actual mom, much to Simon’s delighted little giggles.

When he turns to look at Markus, Connor is a bit disappointed to find him pensive. “You shouldn’t have done that.” He muses, sitting back in his chair with a sigh –Connor would be almost offended, if not for the collective eye-roll from the others that tells him this is normal for Markus. Then he looks back up, blue and green eyes shining with hidden mirth. “But I appreciate you standing up for us.”

From Markus’s other side, Isabelle nudges him with a foot. “…aaaand?”

Markus teeters in silence for a second or two, but eventually caves. “…and those assholes probably deserved it, so… well done.”

More whooping and applauses ring around the table for someone finally getting Markus to admit that feeding assholes their just desserts is not that bad a thing to do. And just like that, as they laugh a little at finally making Markus’s pacifist ass cave a little, the good times resumes and they have one more round of drinks.

Which is the way Connor discovers that Markus is an absolute lightweight: two beers in and he’s already on the giggly side of tipsy. At the very least, he seems aware of it, as he shakes his head seemingly at nothing and pokes Josh in the shoulder to get his attention:

“Josh! No more for me, it’s already starting!”

“I’ll remind you.” His friend assures, tipping his soda glass at him.

Looking between Markus and Connor again, North smiles at her self-proclaimed baby and mouths ‘watch this’. “Hey, Connor! Since now we know you’re actually a badass and stuff, why don’t you try the Bull?”

“I—I don’t really know…” he muses, glancing covertly at the bull at the center of the space –on one hand, he kind of wants to try, on the other hand, he doesn’t want to look like an idiot if he fails.

“I think it’s a genius idea, North!” Markus says, standing up and offering his hand to Connor. “Come, I’ll teach you!”

North sits back and enjoys watching the ball she started as it rolls –thing is, Markus is a happy drunk. And he also turns into a huge show-off when he's drunk, as opposed to his usually very modest and placid persona. Not to mention he’s fond enough of the flippin’ Bull to call him ‘Old Red’.

Connor is still uncertain, but how to say no to a smiling, happy and outgoing Markus? He is weak –and it stands to reason that if Markus has to ‘teach’ him, he will also be on the Bull at some point. Connor sends a mental thanks to North, that’ll be a mental image to remember for sure.

Slowly but surely, they migrate towards the area with the Bull and Simon goes to talk to the handler to set it up. In almost no time, more than a few curious eyes turn to them –again, unsurprising, everyone knows everyone in town and they probably want to see the new guy get flopped around.

Well, they have another thing coming.

“Come here, get on the Bull.” Markus says, making him climb on like he would on any other horse and taking him by the hand to make him hold onto the handle the correct way.

His hands are so, so warm. “Now remember, hold onto this and keep a little bend in your elbow, for control.” Markus instructs, “Whatever you do don’t let go, squeeze your knees, keep your butt on the saddle and keep your other arm out and up for balance, like this!” he demonstrates, and Connor can’t not smile because it’s incredibly endearing –his speech isn’t slurred or anything, but he’s certainly way more excited than the perfectly poised horse wrangler eloquently discussing animal rights. The shine in his eyes is absolutely disarming. “And if you fall, tuck into a little ball and roll away! Got it?”

Connor is _gone_ for this guy. “Got it!” he says, possibly with a bit more intensity that he meant to, swept along by Markus’s own enthusiasm.

The Bull starts moving and Connor sees North whip out her phone. “Don’t you dare!” he tries to yell at her, but the music is quite loud and she probably wouldn’t care. Regardless, he concentrates on the challenge, shifting his weight and using his arm for balance like Markus told him, as the Bull bucks one way, and then the other, and then spins around, rinse and repeat. Isabelle, North and the guys shout random encouragements at him, but he doesn’t quite hear them, focused as he is.

He is, in fact, focused enough that he completely misses the positively hungry gaze Markus is watching him with.

The handler goes easy on him at first, gradually picking up the pace the more Connor gets comfortable with it, but eventually the old buck forward and turn sharply move makes him slide off and he rolls on the mat.

He feels very proud of himself when the Bull handler takes off one headphone and yells “That’s a full minute!!!”

Applause and hoots echo around, both from his friends and random patrons and Connor is almost dizzy: is this what having fun feels like? Holy shit, he’s never had this much fun before! He steps off the platform into the awaiting arms of Isabelle and North combined, and Josh and Simon also proudly pat his back.

Markus praises him as well, but can’t quite look at him, with his hair all mussed and his breathing short, it gives him ideas that he knows he shouldn’t carry out while tipsy.

And it’s then that North’s mischievous expression comes back full force.

“Come on, Markus, your turn!”

Markus was just barely recovering from the sight that was the pure, lovely city boy riding the mechanical bull— actually no, pure lovely his ass, he absolutely _dominated_ those idiots earlier on. There’s _definitely_ more to Connor than what meets the eye. But for those exact sixty seconds Markus could only wonder whether Connor would ride _him_ like that as well, and he’s still biting at his lower lip when North shoves him towards the platform. “What—?”

“Come on, Markus!” Isabelle joins in, “One for your Instagram followers!”

Ah yes, his Instagram account, _‘deviant-rA9’_. 70% paintings and drawings, 25% horses and nature, 5% selfies of his eyes and stupid videos with his friends. He shakes his head and pretends to ‘sacrifice’.

If nothing else, it’s a chance to impress Connor.

“Fine!” he goes towards the Bull and, much to Connor’s confusion, sits on it backwards.

“Markus! Markus! Markus!” North calls with a certain urgency, before the ride starts, “Shirt off!”

 _Damn you, North. But also bless you._ Is the thought coursing through Connor’s mind as Markus unbuttons his admittedly not ideal checked shirt and tosses it to Simon. There it is again, that wonderful physique, sculpted by years of hard, back-breaking work.

The music changes, Markus signals at the handler to [start](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITeqRDSBHC4)… and whoa, he was _really_ going easy on Connor –or maybe he’s going particularly hard on Markus because, again, small town, they probably know him and know he regularly rides without a saddle, so this is piece of cake for him.

But _holy shit_ is that a cake Connor definitely wouldn’t mind a bite of.

In spite of all the safety instructions he gave Connor, Markus is not only facing the Bull’s back, but also not holding onto anything, and with every back and forth buck of the Bull his hips bounce almost clean off it, forcing him to come back down with a grind that… should not be legal. Probably isn’t legal in some states.

Connor isn’t quite sure whether there are actual limitations to the amount of sex-appeal one single person is allowed to have, but he’s pretty damn sure Markus is exceeding them all right now. All through this, his arms move at his sides with the rhythm and Markus is smiling like what he’s doing is easy –not his usual, poised ‘good-boy’ smile, no, something much more wild and carefree, a type of smile that Connor had glimpsed on him while he was riding Ra.

Now he gets why North was so insistent on making him watch this –this is Markus when he lets go a little bit, and goddamn, is it beautiful. When the Bull makes a particularly sharp turn, Markus puts one hand down to hold on, but he doesn’t budge. It’s like he was born to ride things –the thought makes Connor go very red, very fast, as he watches Markus ride high and hard still with that smile on his face even as he starts sweating, shoulders shaking every now and then as he outright laughs in mirth and winks at North’s smartphone.

“Woooo!” North cheers, and Connor has to admit that yes, an Instagram video of a shirtless hot cowboy on a Bull sounds like an excellent idea, now. If only to be able to go back and rewatch it.

Taking advantage of another sharp turn, Markus finally corrects his position, just as a lull in the song also brings a lull in the Bull’s bucking, but the handler keeps it spinning as the rider looks at his audience with a smirk and pushes his index finger between his teeth –Connor’s ears catch part of the lyrics to the song, and they just went ‘cause you look so much cuter, with something in your mouth’…

Sweet mother of God, Markus. At his side, Simon shakes his head and mutters “Oh my God…”

Connor is inclined to agree. Slowly but surely, the Bull starts bucking again against Markus, and their favorite cowboy just takes it like a pro, rocking back and forth and even clapping his hands once or twice with each motion, and honestly Connor doesn’t understand how he’s not dizzy once the Bull also starts spinning with each jump, but clearly, Markus has done this a lot, and every time his hips fall back down on the Bull he settles with that barely-there grind that’s doing absolutely indecent things to Connor’s thoughts along with every movement of every muscle in his torso. It gets worse and worse the harsher the bucking becomes, especially when at some point Markus has one hand on his hip while only one stays out for balance.

The last chorus of the song starts and for one moment, it looks like Markus is going to fall out, but rather than doing that, he swings both legs to the side and slides off the Bull in one swift hop.

His friends –and the rest of the freaking place–  obviously erupt in cheers and North stops the video, though not before yelling “You’re such a slut, Markus, I _love_ _it_!!!”

Markus doesn’t seem offended in the least by the statement, as he simply takes his shirt back from Simon and says “Excuse you; I believe the correct term is attention-whore.”

They all laugh, because it may or may not be a _little_ true.

Connor will never get enough of how these guys don’t take themselves too seriously and can tease the hell out of each other. He would think it’s sweet if only his heart wasn’t still racing from the absolute spectacle he just witnessed.

Apparently their combined performances were impressive enough that the bar’s owner tells them that whatever they’ve had to drink in the last hour is on the house, including whatever they order now –and more cheering comes from Isabelle, who promptly orders herself and North soft drinks to sober up, since they’re both driving, and Markus demands an entire jug of orange juice for them to split –an oh, wow, once he feels it hit his mouth Connor noticed that riding a mechanical bull really dehydrates you.

Even after the juice, though, Markus is still tipsy, Connor can tell.

“Hey!” he says, plopping himself in the chair beside him “Hey, you did really well, you know?”

For a beginner, sure. Then again, Connor did have balance and training above average, thanks to police school. He smiles warmly at the tipsy, happy creature beside him. “ _You_ did really well.”

“Yeah but I’ve been doing this for ages!” Markus objects, which is true enough, Connor licks his lips and averts his gaze when he notices Markus’s shirt isn’t buttoned all the way up, staying open until just above his sternum and exposing those stupid freckles as he carries on. “And that guy! You handled that guy better than Luther does, and Luther is fucking huge!”

Ah, so Tipsy Markus does swear. It’s literally destroying Connor, he thought Markus was smooth and sexy and attractive, but now he’s acting like a tipsy idiot and it’s _cute_. Sure, he’s a bit of a show-off –he looks good and he knows it, Connor can’t find it in himself to blame him— but he’s such a genuine person that Connor is having a hard time at believing Markus, and his friends, for that matter, to be at all real.

 

Even after they go back to the ranch and Connor makes his late-night skype call with Hank, he’s still thinking about it, and it comes out in the most awkward way possible:

“Dad? If I was actually still passed out in hospital you’d tell me, right?”

Hank has to blink and shake his head to process the question: _«_ _What?!_ _»_

“The people here, dad…” Connor mumbles, hugging his pillow in lieu of hugging Sumo, “They’re being so good to me and they barely even know me… and Markus, he’s…” his words trail off, unable to find an accurate descriptor for Markus Manfred.

Really, the only bad part of the evening was those four idiots coming to harass them. On the way back, while Markus slept in the truck for those fifteen minutes, Simon told him the whole story –those four fucktrucks are Leo’s friends, and they used to hate Markus’s guts all together when Leo was still there growing up, now, even after Leo left, they still have it out for Markus and make rude, homophobic comments about all of them in general, even about Josh despite him being straight. Josh doesn’t bother correcting them because he doesn’t give a fuck; and Markus doesn’t bother picking a fight because he has this deeply, deeply ingrained belief that you only really win a fight when you manage to avoid fighting at all –which, although very noble, speaks of a shit sense of self-preservation.

Usually they leave them alone whenever Kara’s boyfriend, Luther, is present, because despite being the gentlest person ever Luther is a mountain of a man and everyone shits their pants in his presence… but, he added with a smirk, maybe after tonight they’ll just leave them alone in general, after their big bad leader was reduced a mess by the ‘twink cop’.

The whole thing really tells a lot about who Markus is as a person and how tolerant he is with everyone –not a pushover, but with a damn near endless well of patience. He comes back to the present with a sigh:

“How are any of these people real?”

Hank chuckles lovingly, looking at his son through the screen and already seeing him much better. _«_ _They’re very real, son. And they do have flaws._ _»_ he remarks, pondering it slightly in his head, _«_ _It’s just that they’re good people where it matters, and you haven’t met many of those._ _»_

That’s true. He was quite the loner all the way through school and police academy alike, and his ex-boyfriend was a complete dick who said it was fine that he’d be busy and then went sleeping around the very moment Connor so much dared to tell him that he couldn’t make it to some date or other because he had to study.

Fuck Gavin, seriously.

 

Luckily, over the course of the next few days, Connor’s days pick up –he’s not just the guest anymore, he has been accepted as a part of the household and as such Markus and the guys are not too shy about assigning him tasks anymore. He even managed to make a joke at Markus, stating “I _always_ accomplish my mission” before taking off with a wink to perform his appointed work.

…he completely missed the way Markus’s eyes lingered after him at that, but he still felt pretty proud of himself.

About a week in, he’s coming back from helping North in her workshop when he gets approached by none other than Markus himself. They haven’t had much time to just sit and hang out together, not alone, and even though the young Manfred did show Connor some of his artwork, this is the first time the trainee detective sees Markus with actual paint stains on him.

“Connor, hey!” he greets, significantly less suave than usual, but with an eagerness in his voice that’s hard not to get swept by. “Are you done for the afternoon?”

Curious, Connor tilts his head slightly in assent and to know more. “Yes, why?”

Markus lowers his gaze and clears his voice – _oh,_ he’s shy about something, Connor’s mind supplies. He’s already smiling, but nothing could prepare him for what the resident cowboy says next: “Would you let me paint your hands?”

It’s so sudden it gives him whiplash. “What? My… hands?”

Interpreting it as if Connor was offended, Markus hastens to clarify: “Not that the rest of you doesn’t look good! I mean I’d love to do a full portrait but that takes multiple sessions of hours and we don’t really have much time and light left, today… but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! I was just asking, because you have really nice hands, and I really, _really_ should stop talking now, shouldn’t I?”

Connor’s expression was growing more amused with every second Markus kept rambling, and he can’t help but laugh at the final question. So even Markus has something he’s nervous about, and that’d be his art –he is human after all, and just as much of a dork as any of them.

Good to know. “Yeah, you probably should.” He teases, looking up at him with his best smile, “But yeah, why not.”

“Really?” Markus looks genuinely surprised, and Connor is more than a little nervous about posing for his watchful eyes, but the smile that breaks on his face is absolutely worth it. “Great! Do you— uh, I usually go out to the pasture to paint by the pond. Is that okay?”

There’s a joke to be made about Markus wanting to take him to isolated places here, but Connor takes pity on the loveable mess before him and just nods.

“Cool! Let me grab my sketchbook and we can take the horses!”

As they exit the barn, Connor looks over to Markus and remembers a detail that escaped him, when he was too busy ogling the hot cowboy: “Markus? Why was Ra saddled?” he asks, catching the other’s attention, “You know, the first day I was here?”

“Oh, that.” Markus himself seems to just barely recall it. “Even though he’s just my horse and doesn’t need to wear it, I still have to make him see it and ask him to wear it every now and then, so he doesn’t become scared of it, or uneasy around saddled horses.”

Fancy that. Connor supposes it makes sense -like someone who was never used to wear clothing would likely need to be introduced to them, before trusting people who do wear them.

They talk some more on the way to the pasture, Connor asks some more questions about Markus’s heritage, stumbling his way through a couple of them and apologizing if he’s being an idiot, but the other assures him it’s fine and he himself doesn’t quite know all the answers… but no, the bracelets and bangles he wears around his wrist don’t really have a connection to the Native tribes of the place, but the beads of his oldest one are from a type of cheap mineral that’s ‘native’ to the region –jokingly, Markus remarks that it counts for something.

He also explains that being 1/8 Native apparently either means one great-grandparent was full blood native, or two of them were half-blood or something like that… with only the words from the foster place lady who had his birth records to go with, and Markus unwilling to get back into contact with those people anytime soon, he guesses he’ll just take it at face value and say that, while it is a part of him, it doesn’t define him.

Blood degrees are weird.

Still, privately, Connor thinks that, if Markus really has Native ancestors, they must be really proud of seeing him grow up so gentle, and wise and caring.

“Here we are.” Markus says, dismounting when they eventually reach the clearing, “Feel free to sit or lie down wherever.” He offers, opening up the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder and pulling out a quite sizeable sketchpad and several carbon pencils and other supplies.

Connor suddenly feels his heartrate pick up. It’s ridiculous, it’s perfectly innocent, and yet… he’s tense. Feeling the need to diffuse, he lies down dramatically in the grass, resting his hands above his head in a very well-known pose, and asks: “Are you going to draw me like one of your French girls?”

Markus recognizes the pose before Connor even makes the joke, and he’s already chuckling, but his witty retort pauses at the edge of his lips.

Those are some really nice hands. “Actually…” he says, picking up a pencil and starting, “Are you comfortable enough?”

Connor stretches out his right leg and relaxes his back a little. “Yeah, I’m ok.”

“Good, hold that pose, then.” Markus says, voice barely a whisper and intense, mismatched eyes alternating between Connor and his sketchpad, “…if you don’t mind” it’s added as an afterthought and with a sly smirk.

Oh boy… this is going to be a long afternoon.


	4. in which they almost kiss but not really

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost, but not quite.
> 
> Surprisingly enough, life by the countryside is never boring, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this wildly got away from me it was supposed to be entirely different, but whatever.
> 
> Hopefully I'll be able to have the next chapter out by Sunday, but no promises.
> 
> ...I know, I'm a terrible tease,especially with the beginning. Total chapter count will probably be 8 or 9 at most though, so in the next two chapters things are probably going to happen. <3  
> Idk, just take this.

 

Connor has _really_ nice hands. It’s not the first thing Markus noticed about him, but it came close enough.

It really only captured his attention when Connor single-handedly subdued Leo’s shithead friend –that was badass enough to send tingles all the way down Markus’s body and he wasn’t even drunk yet at the time. Admittedly, in his thinking about this beautiful creature before him, Markus had imagined himself on top more than not, but now… he isn’t too sure he wouldn’t let Connor have his way with him, maybe show him exactly how good of a _rider_ he is.

Or maybe they could take turns.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, having to purge the thought from his mind, because Connor is lying down on the grass right in front of him, this is _not_ the time for unwanted boners. He exhales deeply, and focuses back on his drawing.

The line art is as good as it’s going to get, might as well move onto the watercolors.

“Are you going to be done any time soon? I’m kinda…” Connor must have heard him sigh –Markus looks up when he doesn’t hear an end to his words and… oh.

He’s falling asleep.

There has to be some kind of mistake: this soft, delicate visage can’t be the same person that made four grown men practically shit their pants before him with just a flick of the wrist and his commanding presence alone. And yet Markus saw it with his own eyes.

It’s actually part of what made him want to paint Connor so badly –they’re similar, the two of them: they are more than just their looks, even if a lot of the time people around them often stop at that. He feels a relaxed smile stretch on his lips.

He’s happy that someone like Connor came into his life.

 

Markus paints and paints and paints, until his fingers decide that his drawing is done –he calls it instinct-painting: he starts, not thinking of anything in particular, and keeps going until his hands stop.

The [pose](https://drive.google.com/file/d/16RVn8C3oKjmvgclT7dDLTG3O2sp4UTgV/view) is correct, those are definitely the hands he’s spent the last two hours looking at, but the [colors and tones](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/17/53/90/1753901a1703841ddbee6d49b530a823--art-illustrations-acrylic-illustration.jpg) he used have gone more towards porcelain white, light blue and baby pink rather than any actual flesh color, and then he did the thing he always does and started [losing the edges and fragmenting the shadows](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9b/ef/b3/9befb3c59eb5fb9534aa90748adc3801.jpg).

All in all, he likes it. He sets his notebook down onto the grass to dry, with a satisfied shrug, and crawls over to Connor’s side to try and wake him.

"Connor?" He calls in a soft whisper, leaning over him to figure out whether is completely asleep or just dozing off.

He's so beautiful like this.

Markus could kiss him right now.

Not a moment after that thought traitorously makes its way into his head; Markus drops his gaze to Connor's lips.

He _could_.

But it would be wrong; Connor is not awake to say yes.

He can practically hear the little devil and angel at his sides –would it be so bad? Just one, little, innocent kiss?

Yes, yes it would be! It's wrong to take advantage, no matter how little or how innocent.

But he would taste _so_ good!

It will taste better if he actually wants it.

In all of his internal struggle, Markus has still swung an arm over the other side of Connor's head and leaned down enough to be hovering inches away from his lips.

Mismatched eyes almost flutter shut at the temptation –but Connor stirs slightly, the movement just shy of brushing Markus's lips, and he holds his breath.

That was... Markus isn't sure what it was. But it makes him draw back and sit up.

Instead of being a total creep, Markus tries reaching out a hand, to touch Connor's cheek –and maybe stroke his hair, if he's lucky.

"Connor? Are you—"

The young trainee detective, Markus finds out suddenly, has excellent reflexes, as it turns out.

As soon as his skin registers the touch, Connor's eyes snap open –he instinctively grabs the hand touching him and twists outwards, forcing Markus to follow his movement in order to avoid getting his arm broken and basically hauling the painter to his other side.

Markus lands on his back in the grass; and in less than a second a ready-to-strike Connor is looming above him.

_...fuck, that's hot._

But also, he's so glad he didn't actually try to kiss him, just now. "Easy!" He tries to coax splaying out his free hand in a pacifying motion, "It's just me!"

"Markus..?"

"Hi, Connor. Sleep well?"

Seemingly realizing what he just did, Connor lets go and steps back. "I'm so sorry about that!" He exclaims, mortified, "I just got startled, I thought—"

He thought he was dreaming about Markus waking him up with a kiss, and then for a second he thought there was actually someone above him. But that's impossible: when he opened his eyes Markus was at a respectable distance and just reaching out to possibly wake him up gently –he saw it, but his body was already moving and momentum carried him the rest of the way.

Well, at least the countryside life hasn't made his reflexes any less sharp.

Beneath him, Markus gives an amused chuckle. "It's okay. Should've known it's a bad idea to startle a detective."

Connor gives him a little more room to get up and they both have a laugh about it –still, the feeling of Markus's skin under his fingers like that has left Connor practically scalded, every inch of him that was in direct contact with Markus is altogether _tingling_.

"Did you finish your drawing?"

The other nods with a warm smile. "Wanna see it?" He asks, "It's not dry yet, so I can't pick it up for you, but it's over here..."

Walking over to where the duffel and sketchpad are, Connor kneels to look at the picture and...

...wow.

The level of detail tells him that Markus could have made a perfectly realistic copy, if he was so inclined, but this tells so much more than what a photographic copy could say. The whites and pink call up beauty and grace, a velvety softness that admittedly Connor doesn't really associate with himself except as the vague sort of concept of being... well, himself; but then the shadows that lose the edges and harden the shapes also speak of hidden strength, something mostly unseen but always there under the surface, ready to blast out at a moment's notice.

Shit, is this how Markus sees him?

Also, how the fuck has this person he's known for barely over a week managed to portray his soul that accurately while only drawing his hands?? Goddamn.

It feels almost like Markus can see through him –Connor isn't sure he likes the idea yet.

"You can tell me if it's trash, I'm not gonna get offended."

His painter's voice startles him out of his musings, and Connor realizes his silence could be misinterpreted as disapproval –and that just won't do.

"No! No, no you're beautiful!" Damn it, brain. "I mean _it_! It's beautiful, you're a really good artist!"

If Markus noticed his little slip up there, he's merciful enough not to call attention to it. With some luck, Connor can pass it off as still being half-asleep and not connecting words properly.

The other just bows his head and accepts the praise, lowering his eyes for a second, considering the drawing before taking out his phone and snapping a few pictures of it.

"Would you like to keep it?"

It’s not the offer that gets to Connor; and for once it’s not even Markus’s eyes, mesmerizing as they may be: it’s the tone of the question. Low, almost as if worried to ask too loud, like he thinks Connor would be offended at the thought. “You’d give it to me, really?”

An extract from Markus’s mind: _oh baby I’d give you a whole lot more than that_.

He nearly, _nearly_ slaps himself in the face to restrain from saying it –luckily, he manages alright. “Sure, yeah.” He says instead, playing it surprisingly casual, “I’ve taken the pictures for my portfolio; and it’s only fair after you put up with me for two hours!”

“Oh? You do have a portfolio?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Markus declares proudly, gaze losing itself a bit as he starts recalling memories, “After the accident Carl’s mobility was next to none… I helped him with physio and eventually became his studio assistant… after a while, he asked me if I wanted to try and pick up a canvas, and… well, he already was teaching me how to draw since grade school, so I figured, what the hell.”

They both laugh at that, and Markus shrugs after his giggles die down: “Fast-forward a couple years, and the gallery people that come every trimester to harass Carl now also harass me.”

Connor’s eyes seem to shine even brighter as he excitedly puts a hand on Markus’s forearm: “Markus, that’s amazing!”

For the first time since Connor met him, the painter actually seems self-conscious, hunching his shoulders and looking back at the picture in his lap. “It’s really not that impressive… out of all my works, only three pieces have made it to the gallery in Detroit so far.”

Of course –being the son to Carl Manfred is a double-edged sword… on one hand, the name alone is publicity; on the other hand, it’s harder to get your _own_ talent recognized. Still, anyone with half a brain would surely recognize the love and effort behind each painting. “Don’t be like that! It _is_ amazing, Markus… you train racehorses, tend to a ranch, care for Carl, and on top on that you’re a very skilled painter, too?” he lists off his fingers, “Are you really that insecure or are you just fishing for compliments, here?”

The way Markus still doesn’t exactly look at him in the eye tells Connor that yes, he _is_ that insecure about his art. Which probably means it’s the thing that matters the most to him, together with the horses.

The trainee detective suddenly feels all the more privileged for both having been asked to model and receiving the result as a gift.

_Such a gesture deserves a kiss._

Connor bites absently at his lower lip. It really would make for a perfect excuse –a thank you kiss… but they’ve really only known each other for a few days and, sure Markus has his flirty moments but he’s quite the playful one, and Connor can’t figure out, for the life of him, what’s real flirting and what is just joking around.

And he doesn’t really want any more ‘surprises’ in that department... as attractive as Markus is, Connor is only here until the end of August, and he… doesn’t really want something fast and loose.

However much that’s putting the cart before the horses right now –quite literally, even.

“I… guess I’m just not used to people outside the family actually believing in me.”

…and then _there_ he goes saying things that make Connor want to just hold him! The only other times he’s ever seen Markus so unguarded and earnest were whenever they’d be talking about horses, animal rights or human rights even, from racial issues to LGBT ones and it’s just.

It’s really hard not to fall for someone like this.

 

He tries to talk about it with Hank once they can call on skype.

“Ok, so maybe you were right about Markus.”

The fatherly but yet still incredibly smug chuckle was expected. _«_ _I was, wasn’t I?_ _»_

Connor nods with a sigh. “I mean… he’s good looking, he’s talented, he’s compassionate and nice…” he trails off, not wanting to gush over Markus too much both for his own dignity and also because he knows it makes Hank a little uncomfortable when he does that. “…I keep asking myself where the catch is.”

Hank’s face falls in understanding.

Gavin had seemed like a good idea at first- he was good looking, witty, smart and with a razor-sharp wit… if only they knew beforehand that being a cheating asshole also came with the package. Hank can’t say he knows Markus well, hell he hasn’t even seen the kid ever since the whole stalker mishap in the city like ten years ago and he was a teenager at that point! But still. Markus doesn’t strike him as a dishonest person.

 _«_ _I know it’s hard to believe… but sometimes people don’t have a catch._ _»_

Connor seems to have fallen into one of his moods. “Good things always have a catch, dad.”

 _«_ _Good things, maybe. Good people don’t._ _»_ they’ve done this song and dance before, and Hank smiles at his son, _«_ _Not the actually good ones anyway. No harm in giving this a chance, is it? If you see something you don’t like, you can simply walk away from it._ _»_

“I’ll think about it.” Connor isn’t too sure about that last part, considering he’d still be stuck here for a month and then some, but it’s food for thought alright.

Hank is pleased to see his son smile once they’re ready for goodnights.

 

The next morning is a little bit different: Simon went out early for his weekly trip at Kara’s for produce and whatever else; and North went with him as an excuse to spend some more time with Isabelle, so someone needs to keep Carl company until Markus comes back from his run with the horses.

“I hope life in the countryside isn’t boring you too much, Connor.”

Carl’s voice is deep, gentle and reassuring. It’s easy to see who Markus takes after. Connor smiles. “Not at all, Carl.” He assures, finding it very easy to talk to the elderly painter, “This trip is probably just what I needed to remind myself that life isn’t just what I see in my little, compartmentalized boxes… everything here is so open and unrestricted, it’s… incredibly refreshing.”

Carl returns the smile. “Good, that’s good to hear.” He says, reaching out a hand to pat Connor’s arm, “You’re a good kid, you deserve good things.”

“I—”

“North told me you kicked some ass a few days ago.” For a moment Connor is mortified, but the amusement in Carl’s voice calms down his small internal freak-out.

“An exaggeration. I just… dissuaded some guys from harassing Markus.”

“Ah.” The sigh tells Connor that it’s an issue Carl knows all too well, “If _only_ the world was as good as that kid believes it is…”

So even Carl knows that Markus abhors fighting to the point of being frustrating to everyone around him. Eventually, Markus does come back and steps into the lounge.

“Carl, you’re up early!”

The other two turn to him, and Carl moves a little closer to his son in the wheelchair. “It’s nothing. Had a little bit of a cough and they all rushed in scared shitless.” He teases, looking sideways at Connor, “You’d think I was some kind of old fart or something.”

Markus is not quite that amused, and looks at Connor for answers with a slight frown.

“I offered to stay by his side since Simon and North had to go and Josh was already out.” He explains, shrugging his shoulder, “He drank some water, then breakfast and his morning medicine… he’s been alright since.”

That seems to calm down the younger Manfred, to the point of amusement: “He didn’t try to pretend like he had no medicine to take? That’s a first.”

“Oh he did try, but I’m a detective.” Their little banter comes easy, just as it easy for Connor to punctuate the statement with a wink and enjoy the lip-bite that comes in response.

He does wonder. Does he have a real chance with this? Why is he thinking about this in front of Markus’s father? Speaking of, their beloved cowboy steps behind the wheelchair,

“Well, since you’re up and dressed…” he starts, nodding at Connor to follow if he wants to, “How about a little bit of riding? The weather is _just_ cloudy enough, and Ra’s been missing you.”

Connor is confused. How would Carl be able to ride without the use of his legs?

He wouldn’t, not bareback.

…suddenly, Markus keeping his beloved horse acquainted with a saddle despite not liking it makes much more sense. So much for just doing it for practicality… what a disgustingly cute sap.

 

Connor is smirking all the way to the barn. Ra does sniff curiously and affectionately at Carl once he’s out in the enclosure, so he guesses there is some truth to the horse missing him.

But it also stands to fact that in Carl’s condition any exercise and open air he can get is basically gold dust, and it speaks volumes of devotion that both Markus _and_ Ra would accept the saddle to accommodate Carl’s needs.

Connor stands by Carl’s side while Markus walks Ra slightly back to fit the saddle: that’s always the worst part, however gentle and loving Ra is, he’s also proud, and stubborn –reminding Connor of a certain someone a lot.

“I know, I know, baby, I don’t like it either…” Markus speaks in soft and gentle tones when the mustang gets slightly agitated, and caresses him on the neck to calm him down, “But let’s do this for Carl, huh? Half an hour?” if he wasn’t seeing it, Connor would call Markus crazy for talking to the horse as if it could understand him, but maybe the synergy between them is that good, because Ra calms down in what could almost pass as a nod. “Yeah, you’re a good boy.”

“You know, you could just saddle one of the horses that don’t mind it…” Carl comments when Markus comes to pick him up, but his son shakes his head.

“We’ve been over this, Carl. Ra is the best one for the job.”

Not that Markus doesn’t trust the other horses to be good for Carl, it’s simply precisely for how well he and Ra understand each other: if anything at all should be wrong, should Ra suddenly get scared or nervous, Markus would be able to tell instantly and prevent anything from happening to Carl.

Connor lets himself relax as he sits on the wooden fence, watching Ra trot gently for Carl and Markus walking by their side, loving and vigilant.

He could get used to the sight. In the meantime, he entertains himself by taking out his quarter and starting to flip it this or that way –Markus hasn’t asked yet, but one way or the other all the household occupants have seen him and asked how the hell he does that… he hasn’t explained his little trick yet; and he possibly never will. Unless Markus asks _very_ nicely –but those are thoughts better suited for the solitude of his bedroom.

When the pick-up truck comes back, it comes back followed by a car and a van. Connor is worried for a second, but then he sees realization dawn on Markus and a muffled “Shit, was it today?” makes Carl laugh knowingly, and he pushes his worry down.

Things are further explained by North’s shout of “Markus!!! The gallery people are here! They wanna film videos and stuff!”

“Connor, would you mind meeting North half-way and ask what’s that about videos?”

He isn’t sure he’s the best person to go and act like it’s up to him whether they can or not, but Connor can understand that Markus doesn’t want to leave Carl’s side while he’s still on a horse, so he goes.

Once close enough, he recognizes the logo on the van –huh. That’s a Detroit news channel.

“Hello.” He greets, not missing North’s ‘wait for it’ face and nearly shaking his head at her, for he is about to disappoint her. “Detective Anderson, at your service.”

As it always happens when he introduces himself as a cop, people instantly become scared or worried about messing something up. Connor is not fond of the power play, but he felt the sudden urge to defend the wholesome environment he’s been living in from the usual media vultures. It seems to work. “Detective? Did something happen?”

“Not at all, I’m just here visiting friends.” Connor assure, professional smile and calm demeanor in place, but still with a sharpness behind his eyes that will remind whoever he’s talking to who’s in charge. “Markus would have loved to greet you himself, but as Mr. Manfred’s primary caretaker it’s imperative that he stays close while around horses. There was something to be said about a video?”

“A-ah, yes, well…” the woman for the news station is more than a little intimidated, despite the apparent politeness of the greeting, “Our station is doing an editorial on the contemporary art scene, and Mr. Manfred has been quite elusive the past few years… we heard the people from the Center of Contemporary Arts were coming to collect a few pieces for the fall exposition, and we asked permission to come and ask a few questions…” To be fair, she does produce a printout of an e-mail exchange, seemingly with Markus himself as Connor skims over it. “We didn’t talk too in depth about filming, but we have a copy of the disclosure agreement on hand if Mr. Manfred wants to go over it?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Connor sees Simon jog up to Markus, likely to relay what was just said and get instructions from him and Carl alike.

When he comes back, the blonde has his best hospitality-manager smile and pats Connor on one shoulder before addressing the lady directly. “Your secretary can show me the agreement and we’ll go over it quickly for any changes.” He assures, motioning for her to let her people set up their stuff, “Please be mindful of the animals, especially the horses. Try not to startle them or get too close without approval from Markus or Mr. Manfred himself. If you wish to greet Mr. Manfred and start your interview, you can do so now. Any interior shots will be at Mr. Manfred’s discretion and will be discussed _after_ his son gets him safe back on his wheelchair.”

Connor bites back a smile –he can hear Markus’s speech pattern in the message Simon is relaying for him.

The news lady seems happy regardless, and waves at the camera people to get off the van while North nudges him to jog back up to Markus. “Yo, Mark! The lady wants to know if it’s okay to film Carl on the horse!”

The lady didn’t really ask, but it would sure make for a stronger appearance for Carl, compared to just being in the wheelchair all the time; and it would probably make _him_ feel better about being filmed at all. Shaking his head, Connor privately thinks Hank was right yet again –as much of a ‘spitfire’ as she is, North is nicer than people would give her credit for at first sight.

Markus runs a reassuring hand on Ra’s neck a couple of times, gauging how much longer e will tolerate the saddle and what mood he’s in. He eventually nods; and brings Ra and Carl to the edge of the enclosure.

"Welcome to Allegan county, miss." He says once the lady is within hearing range, with a megawatt smile so practiced Connor would think he speaks in front of cameras all the time, "We have about fifteen minutes before my hooved friend here decides he's had enough of indulging me, so if you'd like to film the pretty horse, now is the time –please keep the camera crew at least ten feet from the enclosure, I trust they'll be able to zoom if they need to."

"Of course, Mr. Manfred."

"Please, just Markus." He lovingly pats the mustang's belly and then points at Carl, "Mr. Manfred is him."

"You calling me old, son?"

Markus just laughs softly at the accusation, affection clear in his eyes; and Connor himself cannot help but watch, enraptured, while he keeps himself out of the shot's view.

Damn, this is making him miss Hank a lot.

The news station people take a generic panoramic view of the ranch and start off greeting Carl as he rides Ra, inquiring after his retirement to the countryside and decision to start paining again -and from that, to the success that his newest pieces are having at the Museum of Contemporary art, with a seemingly renewed energy in his creative spirit. The interviewer –Kelly, as she introduced herself, seems to actually have done a bit of research on Carl’s art in order to avoid asking questions that would make her seem unprofessional or unprepared, so that’s nice at the very least.

It's not long before Ra is fed up with the saddle and wants out; Markus gently asks the lady to stop and maybe go take some more panoramic shots to give them some privacy as he helps Carl back in the chair.

North, once again proving to be a solid help, entertains Kelly and gives some basic information about the ranch and the house while Markus relieves Ra of the saddle and coos at him for a job well done -and since the barn is open anyway, he lets him and the other horses roam about in the enclosure; it'll make for a better shot anyway.

Once Carl is nicely settled and Markus is sat on the wooden fence behind him to keep a careful watch, the interview resumes.

Carl is effortlessly charming and dignified, answering questions with gentle gravitas and good humor.

"—but none of it would be possible without Markus." He says at one point, gesturing to his son, "Not only he manages most of the place, he also takes care of this old man so much that it gave me enough peace of mind to paint again."

Connor can see the slightly betrayed 'please don't' face on Markus just before he schools his expression into calm acceptance and has to fight back a laugh.

"Of course, Markus!" The lady agrees –all too happy, Connor suspects, to get to know the stupidly handsome cowboy a bit more, "You're Carl's second son and his apprentice, is that right? Three of your own works are on display at the Center of Contemporary Arts, correct?"

Markus nods, taking a small breath before answering, "Yeah, Identity, Hope and Freedom." Interesting choice of titles. Connor makes a mental note to ask him about them when and if they get the time, later on.

"How many more works do you have finished?"

The question, however well-meaning, makes Markus break into a laugh and even Carl smile knowingly. "Madam, if I had to go try and count them for you, you'd never see me again."

"And what a shame that would be..." Kelly says, recovering excellently from the small blunder –enough to, apparently even subtly flirt. Connor is in awe. She clears her voice, "So why limit the display to three pieces?"

He shrugs. "Just because I have many paintings doesn't necessarily mean that they're worthy of being displayed... or that I want them to be. Any artist will tell you, some of their stuff is and will always be... private."

He glances towards Connor as he says that, and Connor's breath catches in his throat at the small, secretive smile Markus sends him –because _he_ knows about that, something that these people don’t. They have a secret and Markus is happy that Connor is the only one who knows.

Luckily their little moment goes completely over Kelly’s head, possibly because she too is completely charmed under the spellbinding blue and green mix of those eyes.

In a spur of boldness, Connor gets out his phone  and snaps a candid picture of Markus as he is, surrounded by camera crew while sitting on top of the enclosure’s wooden fence.

“Well, of course I’d like to have more pieces on display, after all I—” close as he was to the now free roaming horses, it was only a matter of time before one of them came up to him for pets and scratchies. Markus tries to discreetly nudge the horse away, but the horse –a beautiful black one whose breed Connor can’t quite tell– is adamant about getting at least a kiss out of it, and licks Markus’s face, nearly setting him off-balance. “—okay! Okay!” he gives up, hugging the horse’s muzzle from underneath so he can pat him on the other side of his face, “Look what you’ve done, you distracted me and now I’ve forgotten the lady’s question!”

The tone is not even remotely reprimanding, but nobody minds since the whole thing is copious amounts of cute to say the very least and they’re probably not even gonna edit it out.

The questions move more to the ranch itself, Carl's reasons for choosing the countryside over Detroit, and the inner workings of the ranch –they show the crew around a bit and Carl lets them into the lounge for drinks and goodbyes while they go over the bureaucratic side of things and the gallery staff packs and loads the selected pieces.

The camera crew seems satisfied, and North has a subtle laugh with Connor about little miss interviewer helplessly making eyes at a clearly not interested Markus.

Simon, managerial wonder that he is, already has the key points of the disclosure agreement highlighted and approved for Markus and Carl to review and sign them.

"How exciting." Connor comments, once they've said goodbye to their gallerist and journalist friends, "I'm friends with a rising star of the art scene!" He slings an arm around Markus's shoulder and teasingly asks "Can I please take a selfie with you?"

Markus kind of scoffs at him when Connor calls him a rising star, but plays along with the joke and smiles for the camera like he was born in front of it.

"Is this gonna be one of those 'caption this' posts?" He asks, immediately looking over Connor's shoulder to see the result.

North also runs up to them to join in the fun and, standing at Markus's other side, she gets a genius idea and looks at Connor.

"Oh I have a good one for that! Connor, pull it up again and do what I do!"

"What--"

Markus doesn't have time to even question it as North goes on her tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek and Connor follows suit after just one moment of hesitation -the resulting picture is a wide-eyed, confused Markus in the middle of two gorgeous people, each giving him a big kiss, and it's admittedly hilarious.

"We can call that 'Please Help Me'." Connor muses with a laugh, "Look at you, you're terrified, poor thing."

“That’s just reflex from the one time I was drunk enough to try to kiss North and she head-butted me in the face.” Markus explains seamlessly, with a face straight enough that it almost sounds like he’s being serious, “Now I get that terrified face whenever her face is too close to mine.” He says that, and yet as of right now he’s got an easy arm around her waist and hers is lazily resting over his shoulders.

Connor has seen blood siblings less comfortable with each other than these two are. “You’re joking, right?”

“He’s joking about being traumatized, but the trying to kiss me actually happened.” North is swift, merciless and doesn’t miss a chance to embarrass Markus –the perfect definition of a little sister, “He had just turned 21 at the time and drank his body weight, professed brotherly love to me, and then tried to kiss me. I head-butted him and he went down flat. The next day he was horribly hungover, but still kept apologizing to me, it was so cute.”

“North, please stop.”

“Why? It makes you sound cute!”

"No it doesn't!" Markus is quickly becoming mortified –again, a far cry from the sexy bull-riding cowboy or even the confident horse-riding one; but still somehow charming, if only for the genuine humanity of it. “It makes me sound like an idiot who can’t hold his liquor.”

“Well, you can’t.” That is also true –Connor remembers Tipsy Markus not even questioning North’s suggestion to take his shirt off in a whole pub full of people.

“That’s true, but at least now I know when to stop.”

That’s debatable. But Connor takes pity on him, and distracts North by showing her the completed post –a collage of Markus talking to the interviewer together with Carl, their smiling faces in the selfie, and then the funny one with North. The caption for the post is _“Gasp! I’m living with celebrity artists! *swoon*”_ and a heart-eyed emoji. And of course he tagged Markus in it, even though he made the post right in front of him.

While North laughs her ass off, Markus tries and diverts the attention further: “Josh is gonna be sad to have missed all the action.”

“Do we even know the same person? He will be over the fucking moon for not having had to deal with those guys!” Josh hates confrontation almost as much as Markus does, and he especially despises having to talk to people he doesn’t want to –they all know it, but the topic has been successfully diverted and Markus can breathe a sigh of relief.

“Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it Carl?”

His father had been content to just watch them fool around like the little kids they’ll never stop being in his eyes, but he does nod. “It was. I think we deserve lunch.”

Not wasting any time in getting himself busy with that, Markus completely misses North subtly fist-bumping a bashful Connor and mouthing ‘You’re welcome, by the way’ to him.


	5. in which Markus is almost naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before going, Connor did think it was going to be quite boring out in the countryside.  
> Day after day, he keeps getting proved wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  
> Guys.  
> I'm so tired omg.  
> BUT I'm going to be moving apartments on top of training at my new job so I really wanted to get this out because for SURE I won't be able to write at all in the weekend.  
> So really no promises as for when the next chapter is going, I might not get the time to write at all until next week.
> 
> There's a bit of talk about Natives and what being Native entails, I've tried my best to do some research and linked the sources I found that looked the most pertinent to what Markus is experiencing in this story (they should be clickable right in the dialogue, if not let me know)... hopefully I didn't write anything exceedingly dumb/disrespectful and managed to make a well-structured, believable character trait with all this. Fingers crossed! ♥
> 
> Other than that... we're probably going to Fennville again for next chapter, and we're gonna meet Kara and Luther at last!~ ♥  
> But who knows, I don't really decide what to write, my fingers do.
> 
> Also: fuck Zlatko.
> 
> There, I've said everything I needed.  
> Enjoy ♥

 

Connor keeps thinking about their little painting session out in the pasture for more than a few days. It actually felt more intimate than the moment North managed to give him an excuse to kiss Markus on the cheek –not that he didn’t like that, feeling Markus’s skin under his lips was heaven, if only for just a second, the hint of stubble on his face didn’t even bother him one bit, it’s simply… different.

Out by the pond, it was just them, and it was no joke. And maybe it was just to concentrate and make a proper drawing, but the way Markus _looked_ at him, really looked, it was… it feels good to have someone actually pay attention.

It’s a particularly hot night; Connor has been waking up and falling back asleep over and over, unable to properly rest because of the stuffy summer heat. Giving up, he gets off the bed, takes off his t-shirt and goes into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and neck.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he stops and does a double-take. It’s very faint to the point of being barely there, but he’s starting to have a little bit of a tan line. “More color to my face, Hank said…” he mutters to himself, chuckling. Maybe come morning he’ll ask North to borrow some more of her sunscreen and spend the day without a shirt.

If he can overcome his shyness enough.

He decides to go out and down in the kitchen, to have a drink and cool off a little since he’s awake anyway, but passing by Markus’s room he stops dead in his tracks.

For one, dreadful second, his detective instincts flared up and told him something was wrong, when the saw the door ajar –a few breaths from being completely open, actually– but Markus is just fine.

More than fine, actually.

Markus is lying face-down on top of his covers, long legs stretched behind him with his feet crossed at the ankle, propped up on his elbows and scribbling away at a sketchbook, with a pair of big, chunky black headphones likely blasting [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbJnZO9RT8A) into his ears.

The important thing about all of this is that the only things Markus is wearing are a pair of dark blue boxers and the bangles, bits and bops around his left wrist.

This is too much –the universe must be out to torture him, tonight. If that vision wasn’t enough, Markus is slightly keeping the beat with one foot, which reverberates the movement all the way up his leg to his ass, and his lips are parted slightly, sometimes mouthing along to the lyrics. Connor’s eyes don’t know what to stare at more.

Eventually, mismatched eyes look up in the direction he was starting to feel watched from, and he and Connor lock gazes. For a second, Markus just stares back at him and Connor wishes he could disappear, because he just got caught staring at the guy he has a gigantic crush on while said guy’s basically naked; but then Markus’s face breaks into a smile, and he moves his headphones so that they now go to rest on his neck.

“Hey!” he whispers, beckoning him closer, “Come on in!”

Not wanting to make this any _more_ awkward, Connor smiles back and obliges –the smile turns genuine when he hears the song coming from the headphones: it’s a bit of an old one, but man, that’s a classic.

The volume lowers as Markus takes off the headphones and sets them aside together with the phone the music is coming from. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, low and silky, like the night time hours are made to keep secrets and break rules, and Connor has to clear his voice.

He’s already way too far gone. “It’s too hot for sleeping.” He manages to whisper back.

The other nods, pushing himself up and Connor fights the instinct to avert his eyes because that would give him away more than looking on as if unbothered. The subtle shift of every muscle underneath skin as Markus sits up is— there’s no other word, torture. Sweet, sweet torture. Good _God_ he wants to run his tongue across that chest.

"Yeah, don't I know it." Markus comments, making Connor wonder for one mortifying second whether he spoke out loud or not, "Hottest week of the month, they say. Usually when it's this bad I just take my clothes off and open all the windows." Oh, that. Connor almost sighs in relief. Not that the night breeze is particularly soothing, as warm as it still is. Nevertheless, Markus finds it in himself to smile, "But you're just standing there, come sit! You won't break anything, I promise."

Ah. He thinks the reason for Connor's hesitation to further move into the room is because of all the art supplies and canvases scattered here and there. Cute. Still, it's a way to save face. "If you're sure..." he says, the corners of his lips turning upwards as he sits beside Markus on the mattress, "I will happily model to replace anything that gets ruined."

Markus exhales a silent chuckle. "Careful, I might take you up on that."

"You say that like it's dangerous." Connor's mind goes to a very specific place at the implications.

"I'm just saying..." the other says, eyeing him sideways, "I might pester you endlessly once I get going, you'll never be rid of me."

"It's a steep price, but I'll pay it, for _art_." There it is again –the light hearted barbs, the teasing, the easy back and forth that Markus pulls from his lips without even trying. Connor could really get used to this. It's almost enough to make him forget that he's sitting with Markus on his bed without a shirt and Markus is in his underwear.

Of course, as soon as his mind points that out, it's all he can think of –he instinctively he lowers his gaze but snaps it back up as soon as a particular area of Markus's body comes into focus.

Well, that's one question answered right there –Ra isn't the only _mustang_ in the ranch, it would seem. Ah-ehm.

Praying all higher powers he can think of that Markus didn't notice him looking at his junk just now, Connor points at the sketchbook to say something –anything– to get his mind away from the gutter. "So what are you drawing?"

There go the downcast eyes and the lip bite. How can a man that doesn't mind being seen practically naked be insecure about a drawing baffles Connor. But then again, if you're comfortable about your body but really, really self-conscious about your art, it can happen.

"It's, uh... it's not finished yet...” Markus mumbles –mumbles!– but he leans over to pass the sketchbook all the same, "It's supposed to look [like a tower](http://www.raggedpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/16tower.jpg) once it's done."

Oh it’s a tower alright –well, it’s a vertical construction of sorts, but one side is shadowed in black, and the illuminated part is red and flowy, rather than being rigid like stone; it looks almost… organic, like it’s either made of blood or it’s going up in flames. And if flames were to be the interpretation… it kind of looks like a very vague, burning Lady Liberty. Which could be interpreted as either the Lady having been killed by ungrateful people, or Her being really, really pissed off. Regardless, considering what he knows of Markus, the symbolism is quite heavy handed. "It's... impressive."

"Thank you. It's inspired by European tarot cards."

"How very multi-cultural of you."

Markus ‘pffts’ hard enough that he nearly doubles over as he then laughs, trying and failing to cover his mouth –it’s silly, ridiculous and undignified, but Connor is charmed all the same. With that comment alone, the painter knows his impromptu spectator has caught on to his little message.

“You know, I can’t even begin to imagine, what it must be like…” Connor eventually says, actually looking at the drawing with rapture, “Having had your roots taken away under you.” Technically, white Americans are the ones with no roots because they came and colonized the land from either Britain, Spain, Italy or the rest of Europe, but they did such a thorough job at erasing and destroying whoever they found there that it’s… horrifying to even think about.

“It’s not that bad… not for me at least.” Markus remarks, though his shoulders sag and his mood does darken, “I don’t even really know what I should be mad about; they say the Potawatomi were in this area originally, but between the French, British and the whole American Revolution thing who the fuck knows what happened really. There’s only so much you can find out by looking it up and the only thing I have to go on to say this whole history even connects to me at all is a great-grandma whose surname I can’t quite pronounce appearing in some genealogy record or whatever. And that alone doesn’t even really say much.”

For someone who just said it’s not ‘that bad’, Markus sure seems a little bitter. He is rambling a small bit, but it seems like he needs to vent and Connor is more than happy to let him. “How come?”

“It’s not like having Native American blood alone makes you automatically part of a tribe.” The other explains, putting away his sketch and shifting on the bed to sit on his side so he’s facing Connor: “Suppose you do a dna test for whatever reason, and discover you have a great-grandpa who was French. You’ve never been to France, you don’t know shit about France, you don’t even like French food. You wouldn’t go around saying you’re half French to people, would you?”

The extreme and simplified example makes Connor smile, but he nods. “I suppose not.”

“It’s the same for being Native. I have the blood, but I’ve never been in a tribe, I haven’t been directly involved in a tribe or reserve’s lifestyle; and no tribe has [claimed me as one of their own](https://www.pri.org/stories/2016-11-24/you-took-dna-test-and-it-says-you-are-native-american-so-what).” Markus explains, going thoughtful for a moment, “I could try and reach out through the ancestry records and see if anyone could confirm who my great-grandma was, and, if they can, [whether they’d recognize me or not](https://splinternews.com/who-gets-to-be-native-american-1793855329), but… is it really right for me to do? Will it make me any different from who I am?” Carl sometimes subtly pushes him to try and find out, if only so he could have a wider understanding of his identity and himself, but Markus doesn’t feel the need to: “When all it’s said and done… I do have a family, I do have a ‘tribe’. It’s the one I’m in right now, _this_ is where I belong. It’s the reason I prefer to say I have a bit of Native ancestry, rather than full-on say that I am Native when I’m… almost, but not quite. I can still nod and pay respect to my roots, it’s still true, but I don’t have to douse myself in a past that I don’t really feel okay about calling my own.”

Typical Markus, wanting to do everything right in a boundless, all-or-nothing way. That relentless abandon is probably part of what draws Connor to him so much. “Well. Regardless of what’s in your blood, I think you are an incredible, fascinating person.”

“I— thank you.” They are sitting side by side on Markus’s bed, half-naked, and both kind of leaning forward a little bit. Connor’s mouth suddenly feels very dry –it’s a nearly perfect chance to just close that distance and kiss him. But he kisses him, and then what? They fool around a little, maybe have a fling until the end of August, and then? And that is if Markus kisses back in the first place.

 _Coward._ Connor lowers his gaze to his hands and knees as his own mind chastises him.

Markus clears his voice, seemingly just now realizing he’s wearing nothing but boxers. “Do you maybe—” he tries, but he falters, not quite finding the right words to someone like Connor calling him ‘incredible’ and ‘fascinating’. He gets up and turns away from the other. “Let me just put on some pants, we can go down to the kitchen and get something to drink, yeah?”

He doesn’t know what gave him the strength to sound so relaxed, he nearly felt his eyes pop out of his head when Connor appeared at his door shirtless, all milky skin and the occasional mole here and there and— ‘perfect’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. Connor is more than perfect, precisely because he is not in fact, ‘perfect’.

Perfection can, sincerely, go fuck itself by comparison. Connor is light and lean, slimmer than someone like him; it tells the story of the different lives they lead –Markus built his body hauling heavy things around, wrangling livestock and carrying Carl, Connor trained his to fight, chase and hunt.

_He is beauty, he is grace, but he’ll punch you in the face._

Biting back a chuckle at his own stupid thought, Markus thinks he’ll leave poetry to the pros and stay a painter. He opens his dresser and pulls out a random pair of sweatpants –mother of God, of course it would be the [pac-man](https://331mrnu3ylm2k3db3s1xd1hg-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/WoCBudapest_DavideBerti_KarinaHof.jpg) ones. Oh well. They are dark and baggy and both are very good things right now that he needs.

If nothing else, it makes Connor smile. “Let me guess. Present from Josh?”

It became pretty apparent to Connor that out of all of them, Josh is the ultimate game master –they all enjoy their games every now and then, but Josh has that superior patience, possibly from dealing with sheep every day, that beats even North’s technical skills and fast hand-eye… it also goes to his advantage that North’s own patience is clearly next to none, so she’s an easy one to trip up. Markus nods.

“Say what you will about the man, but he does have taste.”

Stupid pyjama pants dispelling the almost uncomfortable arousal, the two make their way to the kitchen in amused whispers.

Admittedly, by force of habit Connor thought that ‘getting something to drink’ in the kitchen would entail opening a bottle and pouring, done… so he is slightly surprised when Markus picks four oranges from a basket, cuts them in neat halves and starts pressing them on the hand juicer.

The other seems to catch his gaze, because he smirks and, without moving his eyes from his task, he comments: “Shocking, I know. Can you believe juice comes _out of_ these things?”

“Shut up.” Connor’s voice is broken by laughter and he leans himself against the counter to wait for Markus to be done.

Freshly pressed juice is tastier and richer than any bottled crap can ever hope to be, and because some of the pulp falls in too it has actual texture. It’s goddamn amazing and just what Connor needed on such a hot night. He finds himself closing his eyes as he enjoys it.

Eventually becoming aware of eyes on him, Connor looks back up at Markus. Sure enough, the other is well finished with his own drink, empty glass abandoned on the counter beside him; his arms hang relaxed by his sides and he’s just sort of… _looking_ at Connor. No, maybe not ‘at’. Through.

The intensity of that blue and green stare is quickly negating the stupidity of the pac-man pants. “…Markus?”

“Would you really model for me if I asked you again?”

The voice matches the gaze, and Connor feels his breath leave him, mind filling with all the delicious tangents modelling for a painting could go off on. He finishes his glass, if only to have an excuse to physically swallow down the nervousness. “Well… within reason.”

“I promise all nudity, if any, will stay above the belt and be treated with the utmost respect.”

Connor’s imagination is still reeling with possibilities, but a teasing smile manages to find its way on his lips. “Do discuss nudity straight away with all your models?”

“Well… I _did_ paint North [as Venus](http://crosti.ru/patterns/00/13/08/c059e13f4c/preview.jpg) for a present to give to Isabelle once.”

“Really? How did that go?”

“Terribly, she has no patience and can’t sit still.” Markus sighs, having successfully deflected the topic, “She _is_ very beautiful, though, so the painting came out great. Ask Isabelle next time, she’ll happily show you the pictures on her phone.”

Connor laughs wholeheartedly at the idea –no doubt the bubbly biker girl will talk a mile a minute about how beautiful her girlfriend is and how romantic of her was it to commission the painting and even model for it… from Markus and Markus only, obviously, because they’re clearly brother and sister and it would be perfectly comfortable and safe.

“Tell you what— what are you doing tomorrow?”

The question takes Connor out of the moment slightly. “North doesn’t have any broken machinery to fix for the day, so I’m helping her out with chores until Simon comes back for his part.”

Markus does a quick mental calculation in his head, mismatched eyes absently looking at the ceiling before focusing back down. “I should be back well before that.” He says with a smile, “Any extra time you take, I can spend with Carl. Then we take the horses out and go out to the pond.”

Connor’s heart goes warm at the thought of Markus spending any possible downtime with Car. “Deal.” He holds out his hand without thinking, but Markus readily grasps him by the forearm to ‘shake on it’. It lasts maybe a moment longer that what a normal handshake would, and Connor can scarcely concentrate on anything other than the feeling of the other’s arm under his hand –they feel as strong as they look– but, mercifully, Markus eventually pulls away.

“Right.” He says, stepping back and stretching and that is _unfair_ , Connor won’t be able to ever be rid of the image, or the motion, “I’m just gonna wash these and go, hopefully I’ll get a couple more hours of sleep in and face tomorrow with at least four under my belt. You should get some sleep, too.”

Acting out on instinct, Connor covers his fingers when Markus tries to reach for the empty glass in his hand. “You go to sleep; I’ll take care of this.” It’s only logical, Markus will still heave is ass up at half fucking five; Connor will get a decent amount of sleep regardless. “I’m serious. Go.”

The smile he gets, so warm, and kind and –dare he say it?– _fond_ … is totally worth washing a couple stupid glasses. “Thanks, Connor.” Markus whispers voice dropped slightly lower than usual, “See you in the morning.”

Connor nods with a small smile of his own. “Sleep well.” He says, exhaling a silent trembling sigh as he watches the other’s retreating back –he would have _loved_ to kiss him goodnight, but that show will do just as well.

For now.

Wait, for _now?_

Oh gosh is he thinking of actually pursuing this?

He can almost hear Hank’s words to him as clear as they were when he asked for advice not too long before:

_No harm in giving this a chance._

“You look happy today.” North mentions to him the next morning as they do the chores upstairs together, “Something you wanna share with your best gal pal?”

Oh, it’s bad if it shows on his face enough for her to see so instantly. He shrugs one shoulder and pretends to concentrate on the cleaning, “Nothing much. Markus and I were both up last night and had a chat in the kitchen.”

“Just a chat? Come on…” she drags the last syllable as if she’s tired of waiting for the good stuff –a part of Connor sympathizes, a lot, with that line of thought, but he doesn’t quite feel 100% ready to dive into this yet.

“Well… he did ask me to model for him today, so there’s that.”

North elbows him in the side slightly. “Ah, perfect, the good old ‘Titanic’ trope!”

“Stop that!” He groans, but he really doesn’t mind it and they laugh and push at each other’s buttons all through their work. They hear Markus come back downstairs, then he passes them briefly and waves at them before gently going into Carl’s room and starting their routine.

“Good morning, Carl. It’s 10 am.” And so forth and so on.

The quiet, gentle tones that carry through the hallway up to a point make Connor’s heart tighten slightly. There’s so much love and devotion behind such simple words and gestures and he just— fuck he misses his dad a lot. It’s the only bad note in this whole countryside trip. Next time, Hank should definitely come too.

Even North is smiling fondly at the sounds.

It lasts for about two seconds, then she resumes her usual sharp glint and smiles at Connor like she _knows_. “You said you would need some more sunscreen today?”

Connor, bless his distracted heart, nods innocently. “Yeah, I mean look at this. Unacceptable.” He mentions, pulling the collar of his t-shirt down slightly and showing the very faint tan-line he’s developing.

It’s true enough that she pops into her own bathroom and just hands him the tube over with a laugh. “Just take it with you for today, you’re gonna have to reapply it every now and then if you don’t wanna fry... and let me know how it goes!” the last part is said with a light teasing in her voice and a wink, but Connor can tell it's her way f being affectionate by now.

 

The small consolation in all this is that, once he and Markus get out to the pasture –waving at Josh, who was just on his way back with Meeko and the sheep– Connor sees the painter sneaking glances at him more often than not.

So Markus is at the very least interested, which is already a flattering thought in and of itself.

Riding side by side looks slightly weird today, both because of all the painting equipment secured to Markus's back and because his mount of choice is not Ra, for a change.

Midnight, the beautiful black Fresian mix that disturbed him during the interview, had been acting up a little and Markus decided to let him stretch a bit. With no saddle and no bridles, of course –hence why the easel is on the rider's back rather than anywhere else.

"He will be carrying the weight of it already." Markus mentioned when Connor asked, "The least I can do is make it comfortable for him and strap it to my back rather than his."

 

They settle closer to the pond this time, so that Connor can sit in the shade of the fallen tree. He settles down, cross-legged and punting both his hands in the grass behind him, curving his shoulders ever so slightly forward. He looks up at the other as he sets up the easel.

"Do you need me in a particular position?"

Markus's mind spins with answers like 'Nah, under me, on top of me, whichever is fine, I'm not picky', but manages to reel it in. God why is this guy so devastatingly beautiful? "Not for now, no." He says instead, which is true enough. "Just sit there and look pretty." Also very true.

Connor doesn't answer that, and they sit in comfortable silence while Markus sketches away. At some point, Connor asks what happened to the tree to destroy it and char it like that.

"Lightning, I think." The painter says, barely lifting his eyes from his canvas, "It happened when I was a kid, and the tree had already been there forever."

It is quite a big tree, judging by the size of the split open trunk –it must have been sad to discover it went down, as beautiful as the effect of its fallen body resting sideways half submerged into the pond is. "I bet you have all sorts of stories about this place." He comments, chancing a sly look at Markus, who simply shoots it right back.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

The detective would have loved to keep trading playful barbs, but his attention is snapped to Josh, who's running towards them like a madman.

"Markus!!!" He calls, breathless, "Markus you have to go back. Zlatko came to the ranch, and he's at it again."

A million questions run through Connor's mind –who the hell is Zlatko, why is it so important that Markus deals with him and what the fuck does he want, just to list some– but he figures he'll find out soon enough, since Markus sets everything down and leaves it there.

"Get back on Bubble and try to keep up."

It's probably not the time for such considerations, but that low growl and steely expression are incredibly hot and make Connor slightly weak in the knees. Add to that the way he practically jumps on Midnight and takes off, really takes off riding like he means it... Connor can hardly keep up.

Bubble is acquainted enough with him that she feels safe even at a faster pace, but he's nowhere near confident enough to send her to full run, so Connor does lag behind slightly.

When he catches up to Markus, there are a barely restrained North, a very frustrated Simon, and even Carl himself just outside the barn, talking with a stocky, bearded man in a button-up and slacks.

"Come on Carl... you're telling me you'd rather let your step son keep his toy instead of making a fortune on the mustang?"

"Ra is not a toy, you obtuse jackass!!!" Markus roars as he rides in, stops himself so abruptly Midnight rears up on his back feet for a second; and then jumps off the Fresian to place himself in between Carl and this Zlatko guy in three quick strides, "He's a _God_ , especially compared to sleazebags like you! Now _leave_ , before I decide to let my horses tell you what they think of your 'offers'!"

Connor is flabbergasted. He's never seen Markus angry to the point of openly threatening someone –if he has to be completely honest with himself; it’s a mind-numbingly hot sight.

_Not the time, brain!_

"You can't seriously tell me I should take this petulant child's words as a business refusal?"

"That is exactly what I'd tell you." Carl is more calm and poised, but his fists are clenched in his lap and his jaw is set. "Markus is in charge of the horses. The final answer is no. Now please remove yourself from the premises before we take action to that very purpose."

Zlatko is openly seething –he hoped that by refusing to acknowledge Markus and calling him a child he'd be able to get his way, but as it just so happens he's out of luck. "You'll regret this. One of these days you're not gonna be looking."

"Are you threatening this people and implying you'll steal their possessions?"

Then and only then does the stocky man even look in Connor's direction. "Who the fuck are you?! What do you want?!"

"Detective Anderson from DPD." He says, sharpening the edge in his voice to make up for his state of undress, "I hope I won't need to file a report on criminally inclined behaviour on our first meeting, Mr. Zlatko."

Zlatko only hesitates one moment, then he reluctantly puts on a courteous façade that has nothing on Connor's. "...no, of course not."

" _Leave_.” Markus repeats, fists clenched so hard at his sides that Connor worries they might bleed from how much his nails dig into his palms, "Or would you prefer I _escort you out_ myself?"

"Fine, fine, I'm leaving." The man finally caves, "Until next time." With that, he turns on his heel and goes back to his expensive car.

They all breathe a collective sigh of relief; only Markus is still breathing heavily, chest heaving and fists still clenched. Connor holds out a hand. "Markus..?"

Instead of turning towards him, the other turns away from both him and Carl with a huff, and with that one, sharp turn he also brings up his left leg and roundhouse-kicks one of the wooden poles of the horse enclosure.

The very top splinters and snaps messily off, and Connor suddenly thinks that some people are _very_ lucky that he's a pacifist.

Also, that imagery it goes right next to half naked Markus in the _'things to forever remember'_ part of his mind –his brain very helpfully supplies images of his favorite painter’s well-muscled, naked legs. Shit, he needs a distraction. “So… who was that guy? What did he want with Ra?”

Carl is the one to answer the question, as Markus is still fuming; he’s leaning against the horse enclosure with both hands, arm tensed in front of him, head downcast and chest still heaving –North discreetly goes by his side to rub his back reassuringly, and while it isn’t an immediate reaction, Markus does seem to calm down slightly… it kind of looks like she’s calming a particularly angry or spooked wild horse.

“Zlatko is a cattle auctioneer. A rather unscrupulous one at that.” The elder Manfred explains with some distaste, “Luther, Kara’s boyfriend, is a veterinarian and told us the conditions some of the animals Zlatko was selling were in, and… it wasn’t pretty. He does the bare minimum for his treatments not to be illegal, but while it does save his ass on paper, it makes for a shitty life for animals.”

Oh, so Zlatko is basically the worst type of scumbag –animals can’t talk, so they can’t complain and they can’t rat him out.

Simon nods at Carl’s side. “And ever since Ra became old enough to ride, three years ago, Zlatko’s set his eyes on him.” He says, briefly looking at Markus with some regret on his face, “A beautiful stallion with peculiar colors, in perfect health and as strong and fast as the word ‘mustang’ can ever imply… Ra would sell for a veritable fortune, there’d be an auction war over him— but you can imagine how he would be treated if he passed through that sleazebag’s hands.” Connor is not a horse wrangler, but he still shudders at the thought. The blond carries on: “Markus hates Zlatko with a passion, but he and Carl are the only ones that can actually scare him off enough to go away without causing too much of a disturbance, so whenever he comes back with a new offer to try and buy off Ra, they’re the ones that have to deal with him.”

From the corner of his eye, Connor sees Markus turn towards North and whisper confirmations that he’s okay; she manages to give him a tight smile and a kiss on the cheek, and he runs a hand through her braid for added comfort. Simon also looks over to them, the question clear in his eyes, and Markus walks over to grasp his shoulder too.

“I’m okay.” He assures, a bit sheepishly, “Sorry I broke that.”

Simon pats his hand over the one Markus has on his shoulder. “I can replace the pole tomorrow morning while you’re out.”

The other nods gratefully, and turns to Connor. “Let’s go back and get our stuff.” The mood for painting is ruined, but they still have to go get all the painting supplies and everything else back.

They say bye to Carl and cross roads with Josh, who was leisurely walking back towards the ranch, knowing it would have been alright once Markus got there, and he gets immediately hugged tight. “Thank you for warning me.”

“No problem.” Josh says, patting his back and attempting to get a smile out of him.

So far, no dice. But at least, Connor can see, all of them deeply care for each other, it’s a lovely, heart- warming thought, but it does make him feel like a bit of an ‘outsider’.

That is, until they are alone in the spot by the fallen tree and Markus turns to him –moving just as fast as Ra. One hand sneaks past Connor’s neck, brushing his ear and going to rest at his nape, the other goes around his waist and splays on his lower back, and he gets tugged close into Markus’s arms, chest to chest.

“Thank you” is whispered against the skin of his neck, Markus’s mouth breathing warm air against him from where he hid his face into Connor’s neck.

His own breath catches in his throat. “I… didn’t do anything?” despite himself, he ends it like a question, even as he gingerly puts his own hands around Markus’s shoulders.

“You practically told that dickbag that he’ll get his ass thrown in jail if he so much looks at Ra ever again.” Connor never used those exact words but… yeah, he’d do that –both for Markus _and_ Ra himself; he’s quite fond of the curious and intelligent mustang, even if Bubble will forever be his favorite. “It’ll be a while before he comes back.”

“Well…” smiling to himself, Connor relaxes in the embrace, “It was my pleasure to be able to help, then.”

It’s then that Markus pulls away just enough to be able to lock eyes with Connor. The hand that was behind his neck comes back towards his face, thumb brushing gently across his cheekbone to then go trace his lower lip.

Is this happening right now? It might be happening. A voice at the back of Connor’s mind tells him that he should stop this –Markus is still shaken and nervous, he could regret it later, but…

“God, how are you even real?” hearing words like those directed at him, while drowning in a sea of blue and green, makes Connor so, so weak. Markus lets his eyes drift shut and leans in.

Connor doesn’t resist.

And oh— it’s everything he dreamed of and more. Markus has slightly chapped lips, probably from biting at them so much –he might have a bit of an oral fixation, he puts brushes and tools in his mouth as well– but they still feel like heaven and so does the rest of his mouth, once he opens it for Connor. He feels Markus surge slightly forward to further deepen the kiss and a hand goes to card through his hair, while he tightens his hold on Markus’s back to the point of almost clawing at him through his shirt.

Such a useless, inconvenient garment, maybe he should rip it off and—

Woah, too fast. He pulls away with a gasp.

Markus averts his eyes, breaking the embrace. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Oh, shit –Connor could see how his sudden movement could give the wrong idea. “No!” he hastily says, “No, no, that was… oh God, that was… perfect, I just… we should—” detective Connor Anderson, the one who always has a comeback for everything, reduced to incoherent babbling? That’s so precious. “How about… we do this again when you’re _not_ distressed and emotionally vulnerable?”

Markus blinks confusedly at him for a second, then breaks into a smile. They’re indeed more alike than they seem at first glance –Connor wasn’t refusing him by pulling away, he was worried about _his_ mental state and _his_ ability to give proper consent. The thought alone makes him want to kiss the other again.

So he does, albeit it’s just a quick, barely there peck. “Deal.” He whispers against Connor’s lips, just before turning to gather up all his art supplies.

Connor spends a lot of the way back subtly touching his lips.

Damn, Hank is going to be so smug to have been right _again_.


	6. in which Connor actually has friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They reall can't quite catch a break for a supposedly 'relaxing' countrysde place.  
> Still. The good parts make it all the more worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MOTHER OF GOD MOVING HOUSES WHEN YOU HAVE ACTUAL FURNITURE IS HARD.  
> Bless my dad, the hero who came all the way from Ital to England for the sole purpose of helping me deal with all of my shit.
> 
> I still don't have an internet contract at the new place and I'm using my phone as a wi-fi tether, so I probably won't be able to post any chapters until next week at the very least but!  
> This is out.  
> We're probably two or three chapters away from the end, hopefully it'll be a nice one!
> 
> I legit wrote this as memos on my phone on the way to and back from work, the whole thing was quite nerve-wracking but I think I managed okay.  
> It's also a bit longer than usual to make up for the wait! ;)  
> Hope you guys enjoy. <3
> 
> (and please bear with any grammar mistakes, it's not betaed and I don't have the means to check and correct right now)

Connor would be a liar if he said he didn't want that kiss to continue.

It was the right choice to stop it because Markus was upset and vulnerable but _good God_ was it a hard one.

_«I'll never get over the concept of you talking to me about kissing boys and stuff.»_

Hank's tone is teasing, but it's also fond and the fact that the man even listens to his adopted son gushing about Markus and his lips and his _everything_ , really, is very telling of how caring of a father Hank actually is.

"You were right, you know?" Connor says, finally settling down a bit, "About giving things a chance... I think I really like him, dad."

Hank chuckles and shakes his head, but doesn’t tease his son too much about it. _«Good. From what you told me, he probably really likes you, too.»_

The warm, if slightly uncertain smile that blossoms on his son's face is worth having to talk about crushes. "Here's to giving things a chance?"

«Hell yeah.» Hank tips his cup of decaf at the screen in cheers –he needed coffee to hear his son talk to him about _love stuff_ , but he’s not crazy enough to drink actual coffee at night, so decaf it is. _«Just promise to tell me this time if it turns out he doesn’t treat you right. I don’t care about embarrassing or uncomfortable talks, I just want to know you’re happy and safe.»_

“Careful, dad, someone might think you actually have a heart.” His son teases, but the smile on his face, genuine and warm, is everything.

They spend the following hour talking about all the things Connor has seen on the countryside and even touch on the topic of unscrupulous cattle auctioneers and what legal action can be taken against them if need be, but eventually they agree they'll regret it bitterly if they don't go to sleep soon, so father and son bid each other good night.

 

"So..." North looks slightly sullen as she passes him breakfast, "That was a shit-show,  yesterday. I'm so sorry you had to see that."

Connor thinks back to Carl's quiet rage, Simon's open frustration and Markus –the immovable pacifist who won't fight even when physically assaulted— growling threats at the intruder and kicking a hardwood pole in _half_ to take out his fury on _something_.

"It's okay..." he tries meekly, "It must have been going on for a long time to have taken such a toll on your mood. Has Carl considered a restraining order?"

North huffs, herself visibly angry at the whole thing. "We never had any proof of his harassment— he's a shithead and we want him gone, but up until yesterday he only came offering to buy Ra. However insistently, that's not legally harassment."

 _Until yesterday_. Connor smirks. "Well." He says, straightening his collar a little, "I'm a neutral party, with no legal connection to the ranch or the man, and yesterday I heard him voice threats to the ranch and the people in it. I've talked it out with Hank a little; and even if right now it's not yet enough, we can slap a restraining order on that man's ass the next time he trespasses on your property."

North’s eyes widen. Right... right!!! The ranch is private property! No matter whether Zlatko announces himself or not, if he's not invited he's technically trespassing! "Connor, you're a genius!!!" she exclaims, enveloping the other in a hug.

"I'm not a detective just for my pretty face, you know?" He retorts with a wink once they separate; and she laughs heartily at that.

"Speaking of pretty faces..." Oh that can't be good. How does she know? Did Markus tell her? He can feel the teasing incoming. He nearly curls into himself until he hears North's next words: "Markus had this incredibly dopey smiley-face when he came down this morning, but wouldn't tell me why! Did something happen between you guys?"

Connor's heart skips a beat at the idea of Markus being half as affected by their kiss as he is. Also he _didn’t_ tell –a true gentleman… with a bad poker face if any, but a gentleman nonetheless. Despite wanting to keep his composure, he smiles. "We just... kissed."

She arches an eyebrow at him. "You just kissed?"

The trainee detective blinks confusedly. "...yes? Is that strange?"

North's hand falls on his shoulder with a strong 'pat'. "Connor, my man, I've been witness to the 'morning after' to Markus's very first time and he wasn't _half_ as gone as he was this morning. That boy is in love."

All of Connor's thought come to a screeching halt. _Love?_ But they barely know each other! What if Markus gets tired of him after a while? What if he cheats? What if they simply don't work out? He takes a trembling breath. "I—"

Nope. Voice failing. He tries opening his mouth again. No sound comes out.

Last time someone tried to sell him ideas about love they were cheating behind his back at the drop of a hat. He can’t believe this time will be that easy.

Suddenly worried, North uses the hand on Connor's shoulder to shake him slightly. "Hey. You ok?"

"Yeah, it's just— too soon..." he doesn’t voice all of his worries, but North knows that type of face.

Understanding flashing across her face, she pulls him into another hug. "You're not the only one going off the deep end in this." She whispers reassuringly, "Markus only looks all put together and suave, I can assure you he's scared shitless of his feelings too. Which is why you guys need to talk it out, got me?"

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he nods. "Got it."

"Good!" North says cheerfully, only to turn stone-faced and serious the next moment; "And I hope you understand that I say this with all the affection in the world: if you hurt Markus, I'll skin you alive and feed you to the chickens."

Connor is pretty sure her threat is only figurative –well... ninety percent sure– and he could probably make quips about threatening a cop, but he knows the type of message she's trying to convey, so just chuckles and pulls her back in to be the one doing the hugging for a change. "Duly noted."

Their moment is only interrupted by Josh coming rushing in. "Oh good you're still here!" Josh is seemingly ready to take the sheep out, but something clearly made him run back. "I need you to take the truck and take Evee to Luther's."

North instantly perks up at that. "Why, what's wrong?"

"I don't really know, but she's walking funny and bleats when I try to look at her feet, I think she's in pain."

It's rare to see Josh worried about something –the man had been the living definition of calm up until the whole Zlatko disaster— so Connor guesses it's one of the sheep, possibly sick or injured. North is already getting up to prepare and he stands without having to think about it. "Want me to come with?" He asks, "I can make sure the sheep doesn't move around or hurt itself on the way."

"Yes, that would be perfect actually!" North all but drags Connor with her, relieved at the prospect of not having to do everything alone for once, and they follow Josh to pick up the sheep and set up the truck.

"Josh..." Connor bites slightly at his lower lip as he leans out the truck door before going, "If you see Markus, could you tell him what happened and that I went?"

The inquisitive but slightly amused look Josh sends him tells Connor neither he nor Markus have been exactly subtle about their interest in each other. "Okay...?"

"...and... that I'm sorry we just missed each other and really wanted to talk to him."

Yeah, definitely amused. All the same, Josh nods with a smile. "Yeah, of course, I got your back."

 

Mercifully, North refrains from hounding him any further about the kiss for the short trip to Kara's.

"Honey, I'm hooome~"

"Sorry North, Isa is already out to open the shop." Connor has to tilt his head upwards and his first thought is _holy fuck_. Right, Markus did drunkenly tell him that Luther is 'freaking huge'. He just didn't think the definition would be quite so literal –this place seems to be hell-bent on crushing stereotypes, between bikers wearing pink frills and men who would look at ease in a wrestling ring caring for puppies and other animals instead. He turns to Connor with a smile far too kind for such a large man. "And you must be the one Isa isn't shutting up about."

"She's too kind to me." He blurts out, bashful at the thought of leaving such a lasting impression.

"She said, and I quote: _you have to meet my new baby, he's a tiny little badass, he's so cute_!" Luther does a terrible impression of North's girlfriend, but whatever else Connor might have had to say gets diverted when another girl, supposedly Kara, comes up to Luther's side and takes his hand.

"We can agree on the cute part for now." Kara is _tiny_ compared to her boyfriend, and yet they seem somehow made for one another –possibly because of how it looks like they’re talking even without saying anything when they look at each other. She speaks softly and with a gentle expression, "How are you guys?"

"We're fine, but we got Evee in the pick-up." North supplies, turning to the vet himself, "Josh says she walks funny and bleats if you try to grab her feet."

Luther exchanges a look with Kara and she nods at him. "Let's have a look." He says.

They carry Evee to Luther's studio -in the meantime North tells Connor that yes, it's named after the pokémon; and yes, Markus named all the 30 or so sheep after some of the original 150 pokémon... which is surprisingly dorky but all the more adorable and damn it, Connor just can't win with this guy.

"It's nothing too bad." Luther comments, after examining the sheep carefully, "The little one has a small foot infection, must have cut herself on something while out in the pasture and the wound didn't close properly."

"But she's gonna be ok, yeah?"

"I'll disinfect the access point and give an antibiotic cream for Josh to apply once a day for the next five days." The vet explains, petting the sheep a little to put her at ease during the process, "We caught it early enough, should be fine. Josh has a good eye."

North breathes a sigh of relief and, unexpectedly, so does Connor. He never really thought about it before, he never even spent any significant time with the sheep, and yet as he tentatively strokes Evee's fur it becomes so apparent that she's _alive_ –which is an obvious fact if there ever were any, but it's suddenly so important... he remembers a conversation he had with Josh himself a little while ago, when he wondered, a bit naively perhaps, whether Josh was put off by the thought of eating meat after caring for farm animals –Josh's answer sort of seared itself in his mind: the resident shepherd said that it's not about eating the meat, it's about giving the animals the best and most comfortable life they can have in the meantime, regardless of the final purpose.

Connor was reminded a bit of ancient hunters thanking the gods before cooking their prey; and he smiles to himself as that same memory resurfaces.

Josh would have been one of them. He’s a pretty swell guy.

Luther tells them, as a veritable gentle giant,  that he'll keep Evee under observation for the next hour, just to double check that the antibiotic doesn't have any adverse effect on her.

North immediately leaps on the chance to make the fifteen minute drive to Isa's shop, even offering to take young Alice and Adam for a spin. Connor happily follows her, actually curious about the whole Venus thing.

 

As it turns out, she does have pictures, and she is very proud to show them.

"Isn't this the best thing Markus ever painted?" She eagerly asks, "Look at it, she's so pretty! Her hair is super long because in all the ancient paintings that's how Venus was drawn and Markus did the whole Renaissance thing with this, but there was a time North actually wore her hair down to her thighs! It was so beautiful I just—" Isabelle cuts herself off by smacking a kiss on the side of North's neck.

Connor laughs amicably at the fond display. The pictures of the painting are indeed beautiful –and quite accurate, gauging by North's statuesque physique— but for now Connor's all-time favourite is the Tower. He wisely refrains from mentioning it though; and they get to know each other some more as young Adam tells the story of how Luther met Kara and how he gets to be an uncle at fifteen. Alice is a quiet kid, gentle and soft-spoken like her mother… guessing by her age, Connor can assume Kara had her very young and found herself having quite a hard time on her own, and yet Alice has only words of love and praise for her new family and Luther the literal gentle giant. Eventually they shift into lighter topics; and they're all having an amazing time.

 

Up until a familiar group of idiots drives up to the shop's entrance.

"Yo, check out the cans on the lipstick lesbian!" One of them croons, prompting laughter from the others.

North and Connor simultaneously stand up to go and confront them, but Isabelle gestures for them to stay. "I'm sorry what did you say? I couldn't hear you over your overcompensating little male ego."

"Ooh, she's got a mouth on her!" One of the other idiots laughs.

"Betcha she uses it a lot too!" Says one of the others to more laughter.

Alice hides behind Adam and even the boy is visibly uncomfortable. Soon enough, ‘alpha idiot’ emerges again as he steps off the car and nods at North: "Hey blondie! How much for letting us watch your girlie go down on you?"

At this point Connor has to physically restrain North from charging at that asshole with a crowbar, no matter how much he'd like to let her. Isa, instead, just smiles sweetly at her girlfriend. "It's okay, baby, I got this." With all the flawless veneer of a vintage pin-up, she walks up to alpha idiot, hands on her hips. "I think you should apologize to me."

The guy just crows louder. "I ain't apologizing to no _girl_."

All four of them laugh loudly, but Isabelle doesn't lose her composure. She daintily raises a hand towards the guy's face. "Do you like my manicure?" She asks, despite her hands not being manicured at the moment. Alpha idiot is confused for a moment but doesn't get time to reply: with snake-like reflexes, Isa reaches her hand out to grab him by the ear; and twists hard. Connor Almost feels a pang of sympathy –considering her arm muscles and the fact that she’s a mechanic for a living, you wouldn't wish her to grab at any part of you like that; and _damn_ Isa would make one _hell_ of a school mistress.

Undeterred by the guy's whimpers, the brunette walks towards her girlfriend and friends, forcing the guy along with her. "What did you say your name was?"

"D-David!"

"David! David, perfect!" She exclaims, with her usual, cheerful disposition, "Now David, these are Connor, North, Adam and little Alice, of course. When you find yourself in the presence of such beautiful people, you say 'good morning, ladies and gents'! Can you do that for me?"

The guy is probably still flabbergasted at being dragged by the ear like a petulant child, but he does comply in a stutter: "G-good morning, ladies and gents."

"Unless of course it's evening, in which case you say..?" Isabelle tightens her already ironclad grip on David, and he groans out the reply.

"Good _evening_ , ladies and gents!" By this point he's near tears from all the tugging, and his friends are startled speechless as well.

"Good!" The biker girl praises, voice sugary like she isn’t dragging a guy twice her size around by his head "Good, splendid! Now. Go home, brush your hair and please… put on a clean shirt when you leave the house. It's an offense to the very delicacy of my being."

With that, she roughly shoves the guy back towards his car, and he scrambles the rest of the way to get in and drive off among the combined cheers and hoots of North, Adam and Alice. Connor will deny it, but he's trying to hide his chuckles behind a hand, too.

"Isa, you're such a boss bitch!" North exclaims, grabbing her girlfriend as soon as she walks back in range to smack a kiss on her lips, "I _love_ it!"

Connor makes a mental note to tell Markus of this encounter –technically, there was no fighting involved.

 

They eventually go back to Luther's to pick up Evee and drive back to the ranch –Connor gets thanked profusely for his help even though all he did was hold a sheep still in the back of the truck; and he finds Simon in the lounge going over his work for the day.

"Hey!" The blond greets, "All well at Kara's?"

Connor nods. "As well as can be."

"Great!" Simon smiles warmly, "Will you do me one more favor? Markus is assisting Carl in the studio right now, and he doesn't have anything to do after that –shocking, I know." It's like an inside joke by now, that cowboy will work himself into the ground before admitting to needing time off, "The horses have exercised for the morning, Josh has already taken the sheep out and will take care of Evee now that she's back, the chickens are fed and everything else is under control. Can you please make sure he doesn't find excuses to work himself to exhaustion?"

On the tip of Connor's tongue there's a ‘why me’ type of question, but he's pretty sure by now that all of them know he's attracted to Markus and are trying to set them up. "Got it." He says simply, making a left into the studio, curious to see the famous painter in his natural environment.

Huh. So that's what that crane-thing is for.

Carl is currently suspended on the crane seat at roughly ten feet, painting on a giant canvas that is already filled with vivid blue tones. Underneath, Markus vigilantly watches over him in his paint smock, while he busies himself with tidying things around.

The overalls are speckled with all kinds of colors, but the fresh-looking blue dots on his shoulders tell Connor that Markus has passed underneath Carl several times, and the way he keeps looking up at his father is a clear sign of being ready to run underneath him at a moment's notice should anything out of the ordinary happen.

They're both silent, possibly concentrated on their tasks, and the detective feels bad for intruding -he doesn't say anything, he waits for Markus to look up and notice him.

"Oh, hey!" That smile, good heavens. Few things are as eye-catching as a truly happy and content Markus, "Welcome back!"

Connor nods his thanks, before putting on his best business voice: "I've been sent to make sure you don't find ways to overwork yourself, and I'm warning you right now: I always accomplish my mission!"

The elder Manfred chuckles heartily at that. "Finally we have someone who will see this task through!" He comments, pushing the crane seat's command to bring him back down, "You're gonna have to suck it up and go rest, for a change." He tells his son with a teasing smile and a caress to the forearm.

Defeated, Markus can only shake his head and follow. "Fine." He concedes, then looking up at Connor, "Wanna go get some sun by the pond?" At the other's further nod, he continues: "Great! Let me grab my stuff and we'll continue where we left off."

The choice of words makes Connor think of a specific activity he would very much like to continue, but he forces his mind out of the gutter and agrees.

 

Five minutes later Markus is wearing his paint smock unbuttoned and with the sleeves tied around his waist, only a green tank top covering his chest and speckles of paint stopping at his forearms as a tell-tale sign that the smock had been worn properly while in the air conditioned inside.

It's hot and sunny by the pond, but a gentle breeze did kick up a while ago and Connor feels alright in the shade of the fallen tree.

Not even the intense stare from the other side of the easel is enough to make him falter, everything feels so undeniably... right.

They talk about anything under the sun, from Connor’s impression of Luther to Isa’s incredible way of handling homophobic shitheads –Markus still says it’s wrong to rough people up, but he does laugh wild and carefree at the scene Connor paints for him. If asked, the trainee detective couldn't quite tell how much time passed from when he sat down until Markus got up, but it stands to fact that his spot is not in the shade anymore, so a good three hours is the most likely answer.

"Do you wanna go back for lunch?" Markus asks, "We could go see if someone else cooked, for a change."

They usually don't bother, since Markus is usually so attentive to Carl's meal times that he's always first, but Carl basically kicked him out well before eleven, so there really wasn't a chance for him to prepare anything today.

Connor smiles to himself. "Here, let me help you." He offers, moving forward to help the other gather up his various art supplies –Markus quickly covers his canvas with the brown protective sheet. "Hey! Don't I get a sneak peek?"

The painter teasingly shakes his head. "Not until it's done."

"That's unfair!" Connor pouts, and Markus can't quite keep himself from staring –mismatched gaze flicking down to the detective's lips.

There's no way Connor did not notice that.

He did, he definitely did, and he just barely froze as soon as he realized what Markus is looking at. Seconds tick by, slower than hours, as the two tentatively lean into each other.

Their lips meet gingerly, almost afraid, in a barely-there peck, quick and chaste but acting like a magnet: they pull away, but as they look at each other they pull back in for another small peck, then chase after each other's mouth for one more; then they pull away one last time and Markus's eyes ask for a silent permission that Connor's do not hesitate to give, and it's like the shattering of a glass wall, impetuous and sudden as Markus eagerly snakes both arms around Connor's shoulders while the other grabs him by the waist, letting the kiss go deeper and losing themselves in each other's taste –Connor surges forward when Markus rakes against his nape slightly with his nails, making the painter lean backwards and fall from his kneeling position to his back on the grass, a motion that the detective is all too happy to follow along.

Markus gets the wind knocked out of him in the fall and he pulls away just barely, with a breathy giggle that feels warm on Connor's skin.

It gives Connor the pause necessary to ask: "Whatever happened to having lunch?"

"What are you talking about?" Markus asks, leaning up just enough to steal one last quick peck, "I'm having it right now."

"The things you say..." the other shakes his head, gaze softening into something slightly more serious, "We should talk about this." Connor knows he's a huge hypocrite for saying this while looming over a lying down Markus at 3 inches from his lips, but he needs to know.

Confidence spurred by the enthusiasm with which the other kissed back, Markus nods and is only slightly sarcastic as he comments: "Fantastic idea!" He licks his lips slightly before carrying on: "I'll start: I like you. I've liked you since day one and I'd be deliriously happy to call you mine and hear you do the same for however long you'll have me."

Shit, how does anyone top _that_ , as a spur of the moment confession? Just hearing Markus say the words 'I like you' sent Connor's heart into a frenzy, he can barely find his bearings enough to make his mouth utter reciprocation.

"I like you too..." he manages, and wow, if that isn't a weight off his chest, "But... I'll leave soon.."

The intensity in those odd eyes doesn't waver. "So? Detroit is like two and a half hours away." He comments, lips breaking into a fond smile: "I'm used to having to work for what I care about."

And oh— it just about killed him to say 'care about' rather than the big, capital L _'L-word'_. He wants to, but he understands –it's soon, way too soon for that and Markus really, really doesn't want to fuck this up. He sees Connor bite slightly at his lower lip and swallows down the urge to lean up and be the one to do that instead. Eventually, Connor nods.

"You know, I've liked you since day one, too." He adds, smile slowly going on this side if cheeky, "Even if you never quite seem to manage to keep your clothes on."

"Some would view that as a feature, not a bug."

"Maybe some..." the detective concedes slightly, making a show of rolling his eyes, "...but I find it very distracting while I try to be genuine and honest with you."

Just to be a tease, Markus brings his hands down to Connor's waist and tugs him close, until his hips push firmly in-between Markus's legs, making them both gasp slightly. "It seems like _one_ part of you has no problem with being honest, detective." 

"I don't quite think 'honest' is the word you're looking for, here." Connor quips back, relenting only so much as to lean down and give Markus one last, slow kiss, taking his sweet time in tasting the other's tongue, then pulling away to leave a small trail of kisses on his jaw, reaching just shy of his ear: "We should go back."

Markus bites his lower lip and inhales sharply. "Fine, you tease." He agrees, if only for the distant awareness that yes, he is actually hungry and needs some flippin' sustenance, "You go on ahead, I have to take a quick dip in the freezing pond before I'm anywhere near presentable."

Connor all but scrambles away –he becomes suddenly aware that yes, he could feel exactly how... _enthusiastic_ Markus has become during their brief exchange; and it almost feels like a miscarriage of justice to give that up, but if they don't show up to at least quickly pop in and eat, someone would come looking, and that'd be worse. He sighs to himself and takes a few deep breaths to let his own arousal subside.

 

Markus feels it was very lucky that he decided to take a freezing dip before going to lunch –Isa just came over to have her lunch break with her girlfriend; and if she and North saw him come back with the type of boner that not even a paint smock could hide then the combined teasing from the both of them would have been enough to want to disappear.

"So... have you drawn him like one of your French boys yet?" Instead, it's just the usual amounts of teasing.

He smiles as he happily piles a generous amount of Simon's amazing curry. "Nah, French boys are dull." He comments with a wink, "For Connor I was thinking more along the lines of Norse deities, possibly Baldur."

North scoffs into her plate, calling out "Neeeerd!" while Markus just rolls his eyes at her.

Connor has to ask. "Baldur?"

The painter hums in assent, passing a hearty serving of lunch along to him as well and motioning to sit down. "The Man Who Cannot Be Killed. Would make for a hell of a title, don't you think?" He explains, "Baldur is the son of Odin and Freya, prophesized to die with the coming of Ragnarok –to save him from such fate, Freya made an enchantment that makes Baldur immune to any and all harm..."

Connor is fascinated by the tale even as North still calls Markus a nerd for knowing a lot about mythology –it probably comes from studying arts and their history, but the exchange does make him smile. Still, he’s intrigued and wants to know. "Isn't Ragnarok a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"Oh no, there's two of them!!!" Isabelle breaks into laughter at North' groan, but Markus's eyes are practically sparkling with enthusiasm at even just the slight interest Connor is showing.

"It is!" He confirms, leaning slightly towards his side with a mischievous expression, "And all magic spells have a catch, especially the powerful ones. The Man Who Cannot Be Killed is indeed vulnerable, but to no ordinary weapon, and his vulnerability is a closely treasured secret."

A voice sounding suspiciously like Hank's tells Connor 'remind you of anyone, kid?' and once again he has to wonder: just how far does Markus's eyesight go, when he looks at you through his colors and brushes?

"Shut up." Is all he says, but he does smack a lightning-fast peck on the painter's cheek.

"Whoa, whoa, hold the phone!" North's reaction time is excellent, and she outwardly points at them, "When did _this_ happen?!"

"Well, you did tell me to 'stop being such a wet noodle and go for it'." Markus confesses with absolutely zero shame in his voice, "I followed your advice."

Connor ponders it for a second and then adds with a chuckle: "Me too."

The blonde mechanic is ecstatic to say the least. She erupts in laughter, turning to her girlfriend: "See? I'm the best wing-woman ever!" Isabelle rewards her with smiles and quick kisses, but then North turns to point a warning finger at Markus: "Do _not_ fuck this up."

There are no threats of dismemberment this time, but the feeling is very much the same and it warms Connor’s heart that North would threaten bodily harm on _his_ behalf too –it probably says something about them all as a whole or their friendship, but he doesn’t care –he has _actual_ friends, that’s already more than enough for him.

Markus feels a renewed wave of fondness for his honorary sister and nods. "I'll do my best not to."

"This is so exciting!" Isabella exclaims, reaching forward to pinch one of Markus's cheeks, "My baby ducky all grown up and getting a boyfriend who is _actually_ a nice person!" Then she pauses and leans back: "Wait, you _are_ boyfriends now, right?"

The two smile at each other like they've known it all their lives.

"Yes." Connor says, bright brown eyes never leaving the other’s.

Isa claps her hands together enthusiastically, before frowning suddenly. "That reminds me! Connor, do you know a Gary?" She asks. At the detective's obvious confusion, she continues, "Wait maybe it wasn't Gary... just a couple hours ago, a tourist stopped by the motor shop and asked some weird questions!"

That does not bode well. He frowns as well. "What kind of questions?"

"Just... if I knew you, and who you were staying with... when I asked who wants to know, he said he's your boyfriend... but North told me you didn't have one so I just played dumb and sent him on his way!" Isa assures, "God, what was his name... Gary, or Gordie or..."

"Gavin?"

"That's right!"

Connor's expression twists in anger.

_Gavin motherfucking Reed._

What the fuck does he want and how did he find him in Allegan county?!

Oh wait –fucking social media. All of his instagram posts about how beautiful the ranch is and the cute video of Markus whispering to Ra... not to mention the video North made of his attempt at bull-riding.

Of course that dick would choose _now_ to try and come back in his life.

"...Connor?" The soft, worried call from Markus makes him realize he hasn't spoken in several seconds, and he turns to the other.

"It's alright." He tries with a tight smile, "Just a bad memory that doesn't know when to let go."

North nods sympathetically. "Don't we know something about that..."

With almost comedic timing, Simon comes inside the dining room. "Connor?" He calls, a bit hesitantly "There's some guy outside demanding to see you, says he's your boyfriend...?" His eyes flick towards Markus as his sentence trails off into a question, but Connor just groans. "He's not my boyfriend!"

Simon feels a strong sensation of dejá-vu about stalkers and the likes, at that. He instinctively turns protective too. “Just say the word and I’ll tell him to fuck off.”

“No. No it’s fine.” Connor huffs, standing up brusquely enough to rattle the chair, "I'll get rid of him myself, thank you, Simon."

He storms out to the hall and towards the front door, and after a moment of stunned hesitation Markus goes to scramble after him –and, at a slower pace, so do the others.

They catch the two in the middle of their standoff:

"—what do you mean 'why am I here'?! I'm your boyfriend!"

" _Ex_ -boyfriend, Gavin." Connor's voice is stone cold; and oh boy Markus would not want it directed at him. In all his delicate features, Connor can be pretty fucking intimidating.

This Gavin guy seems a bit too thick to perceive the danger in Connor's voice. "C'mon, Connor, you don't mean that!" He says stepping closer into his ex's personal space and placing a hand on his arm, "We used to have such a good time together. We'd never have split up if you weren't so uptight!"

Connor's jaw is tight with anger, he doesn't know whether to just punch this asshole or just yell at him until he actually understands what cheating means. Gavin has the sheer nerve to make it sound like _he_ was the unreasonable one?!

No matter how badly the punches want to come forward, he stays his hand. He doesn’t want the cheap satisfaction of a brawl, he wants this asshole to understand that _he_ was right in breaking things up. Is that too much to ask? "It's not 'uptight' to break up with someone who's cheating."

Markus has been following the exchange silently, but that catches is attention –who would cheat on someone like Connor? And why?

"Well sue me for wanting a partner who actually pays attention to me!"

Connor's fists clench. "You don't want a 'partner'. You want a blow-up doll that moves."

Oh, this guy is a complete jackass, that’s why. Markus walks up closer to the two of them, making sure to square his shoulders and stand as tall as he can –North will undoubtedly make fun of him for it later, but Gavin is a good bit shorter than Connor, and he's taller still and bigger around the shoulders. He doesn't necessarily like it, but if intimidation tactics work he'll use them. "Is everything all right here?"

"None of your goddamn business—" Gavin stops short, taken aback by the seemingly unnatural difference in Markus's eyes making his hard stare all the more powerful.

Good. The more he catches him off guard, the easier it'll be to make him leave. "It is my business if you're harassing my guest." Markus says, mustering up as much authority as he can in his voice. "This is a private property. Please leave, or I'll have to escort you out myself."

"I'd like to see you try, farm boy!" The intruder  says, turning to Connor yet again, "What are you even doing here? You'd really rather spend your summer wading through horse shit than somewhere nice where you and me can have some fun?"

Gavin grabs him by the other arm as well; and Markus half expects Connor to break out of the hold and judo-flip the motherfucker down on his ass like he's more than capable to, and yet... Connor doesn't. His fists are clenched to the point of white knuckles, but he doesn't move. "I came here... to get _away_ from you, Gavin."

Markus can relate. It's always harder to fight someone you once cared for. But that means that if Connor won't fight, _he_ will have to.

Gavin seems to take Connor's words as a sign that he's not truly over them. "You don't mean that." He repeats, "You're just holding out on me, like you always did!"

"Okay, that's it." Markus steps in-between them, pushing against Gavin's chest firmly enough to make him step back a couple pf times. "You're not wanted here. Leave, or I'll have to escort you off myself."

Eyebrows arching upwards, Gavin regards Markus with a sneer. "Oh... oh I get it, you're the new boy-toy, aren't you?" He clicks his tongue in distaste, "I got bad news for you, pal. That guy doesn't put out."

Markus doesn't rise to the bait. "None of that concerns you. I'll say it one last time. Leave."

"Or what? Hm?" Gavin shoves at Markus's chest, "C'mon, cowboy!" One more time, "Show me what you got!" And one more.

Markus doesn't wait for a fourth shove. He grabs Gavin's wrist and forcefully lifts his arm, lowering himself and slipping into Gavin's space in one fluid motion. From there it's a matter of a split second to push against the other's body with his shoulder, lift and flip. No hits dished out, but still spelling trouble if further angered.

"You seem like a reasonable guy." He doesn't, but Markus says it anyway, in the hope that maybe, just maybe, Gavin will decide that an ex that doesn't want you back isn't something to get your nose broken over. "Don't make this get uglier than it needs to be."

The insistent ex is still half-lying on the grass, confused as to how he even got there, and his eyes look for Connor.

"What do you want from me, Gavin? We're _over_." The icy quality in his voice and expression make it very clear that his words are absolute, even as he knees down to level his stare; and this time even Gavin can see Connor is serious. "Don't let me see you around me or my friends _ever_ again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Connor—"

 _"Do I make myself clear?!"_ Connor's yell of repetition contrasts greatly with his impassive visage, and once more Markus thinks that he definitely wouldn't want to be on the receiving ending of that.

"...fine. Fine!" Gavin snaps as he gets back up, "Fine, whatever." He turns to shoot one last distasteful look at Markus and then back to Connor. "You won't last past the summer with the pretty-boy anyway. Fuck this."

Connor only actually exhales when Gavin disappears from their sight –he didn't even realize he was holding his breath for the last few seconds.

Markus is instantly by his side, the touch of his hand a comforting weight on his back. "You okay?"

He mulls it over for a second. Gavin’s insinuation about the two of them not lasting got to him, but Markus’s affectionate concern is right here already proving the assumption wrong –they _might_ not last, only time will tell, but Connor has a definite feeling that even if things were to not work out, it wouldn’t be for the same reasons. He eventually nods. "I will be." he assures, "Hopefully that's the last we'll ever see of him."

They look at each other for a few seconds, and then Markus chuckles: "Now I know how I was able to snag you! The bar was set pretty low!"

It's probably in bad taste, but the detective breaks into laughter at how absolutely terrible the joke is. "Hey now! You give me flak about that dickhead now, but what about _your_ stalker ex?"

"Who told you about that?!" of Markus had lighter skin he'd probably be scarlet right now. Connor just gives him a pointed look and he _knows_. "…The Lieutenant. Of course."

"God, you dorks are made for each other I swear."

...and that would be North. Isabelle is also chuckling behind her hand and Simon's face as he holds back the laughter is worth a thousand words. The moment is gone.

"Can we just get back inside?" Connor asks, actually feeling drained from the encounter, "I really just want to forget about this whole thing."

Mismatched eyes shine with a cheeky glint as Markus says "Sure, yeah.” He says, with the slightest teasing lilt to his voice, “Let me check on Carl and then I have a few ideas on how to do just that."

 

Connor honestly wasn't expecting a four-player Mario Kart battle royale with Isa and North until it gets time for their afternoon duties out of _that_ proposal, but to be completely honest… he's not complaining.

He could get used to this.


	7. In which Connor saves the day (or night)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you hear that?” he asks, eyes only just focusing and quite surprised to find his boyfriend expression downturned in a dark, worried frown.  
> “That’s Ra.”  
> “What was?”  
> Connor will never know if the horse had already cried out just before he woke or if Markus and Ra are that well connected, but suddenly, not one second after Markus spoke, a desperate neighing sound echoes from the barn; and his boyfriend locks eyes with him and just says: “That.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT.  
> Writing this just about kicked my ass.  
> It's absolutely bananas to try and find the time to write without taking any away from swimming, and holidays and staying with family.  
> But I did it.
> 
> I'll probably wait until I'm back in London on the 20th for the next Chapter - alas, Chapter 8 is going to be the last, a nice little Epilogue to wrap things up in the nice little bow I always like to do!  
> But fear not, I have LOADS of things ready to follow this up with.  
> (Also it really depends, if I get antsy enough between tonight and tomorrow I might dish out the Epilogue sooner rather than later -it's gonna be soooo cute!!!)
> 
> In the meantime... just take this.  
> I hope it's up to standards.
> 
> (and yes, to anyone asking, Luther is ace, but not aro -him and Kara cuddle and kiss at times, but that's it)
> 
> BIG EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT LIKE AN ASSHOLE:  
> Here's [Connor portrayed as Baldur](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1vWBJGftBKjx7XTjOrDAyn1s6KQSp5G6b/view) or rather an approxmation of it. There's always a good bit of imagination involved but, you know.  
> I try.  
> I'mma also link it down in the chapter as usual

Carl’s interview gets aired over the weekend, and Markus couldn’t be more proud. Emails come flooding in and the gallery wants to extend and expand the exhibition, and they even ask a few questions about Markus’s own art –which instantly sends the usually confident and self-assured cowboy into a bashful gratitude that Connor just has to kiss away to the teasing of “Stop faking it, you show-off.”

Arrangements get made, and soon there’ll be one more piece together with Identity, Hope and Freedom. Carl is twice as proud of his boy as Markus is of him.

All things considered, life is good. Great even –work hard, play hard has never rung truer in Connor’s ears: the mornings are usually filled with chores, but the rest of the day he gets to hang out with his friends, with Markus himself, or even visit Isabelle at her shop or Kara and Luther at their ranch.

On one such occasion, Kara tells him the _full_ story of how Markus introduced the two of them –Connor heard it from Adam’s side, but the boy was seven at the time so he really didn’t say much, and Kara is a way better storyteller anyway.

She came to Allegan County after running away from home –she was 16 at the time walking down the street with little money and no destination; and met an 18 years old Markus riding along the side of the road on a black horse. With him being, well, Markus, he obviously asked her if she was lost, if she needed any help –not in the least because she had tear tracks all over her face and was walking with a hunch in her shoulders.

 _“Not unless you can get your horse to kick me in the stomach.”_ She had said, promptly making him dismount and block her way.

 _“That’d get you killed, little miss.”_ He had said. She gave him a look that said ‘piss off, you’re not that older than me’, but he didn’t falter, even as his face softened and he sighed. _“If you really don’t want to have this baby, I’ll ride you to South Haven myself and get you to the hospital. I’ll stay with you the whole time and you can crash at my place while you recover. Promise. But if you’re just scared, alone, and want somewhere to stay the night, I have some friends who live down this road, they’ll take you in.”_

“Bullshit!” Adam comments at that, “How did he know you were pregnant?”

Kara smiles fondly at her little brother. “That’s just Markus for you. He just _sees_ people.”

Connor has to bite at his lower lip to conceal an affectionate smile of his own. “Wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. Please, go on.”

“We start walking together, and he asks about the dad… and I just say, you know… just another guy. Just some asshole who fled the scene as soon as the little pink ‘plus’ appeared. Then he gets me to Rose’s house, and the first thing I see is this _giant_.” She laughs a little, briefly meeting Luther’s gaze –he’s already holding back his own smile. “Mind you, Luther was already six feet by the time he was nineteen and I… I’ve stopped at five three!”

They all laugh at that; and while Connor is confused by Alice’s presence, he guesses she must have heard it before, because she perks up at what seem to be her favorite parts.

“Of course, at first I was scared of him, but Markus –bless his heart– he said to me: don’t worry, he’s probably not into you… as far as I know he’s not into _anything_ , believe me, I’ve _tried_.”

More laughter rings through, the loudest from Luther himself –Connor goes scarlet at the thought because… well, the mental image does make one wonder. But Kara just smiles on, and moves forward with her story. “So I stayed the night. And then the day. And then I started talking with Luther… and he started mentioning things… how did it go, hon?”

Luther chuckles as he tries to recall: _“You know, I understand you. Children are a hassle… you’ve gotta breastfeed them, burp them, rock them to sleep, change them nappies, cuddle them, make them play… and then they wail, cry, grab at your fingers, they get fussy…”_ He shakes his head and turns to Alice, “And I can swear to God, your momma’s smile kept getting brighter and brighter at every thought.”

Kara caresses Alice behind the head and continues, “And then he said: but when they start growing… they get around twelve months and say ‘momma’… ain’t that something…” Both Kara and Luther pause, because they know at this point there’s always an ‘awww’ coming from somewhere –Connor will deny making such a sound to the very end of his days; and Kara lets him save face. “The next day, Luther drove me to the clinic, but… I couldn’t. My bitterness and my fear stemmed from the thought that I’d be all alone… that _my baby_ would be all alone… but I wasn’t alone anymore. So I turned on my heels, grabbed Luther by his massive hand, and asked him to take me home. We grew closer and closer, up until one day he called me ‘love’ and I replied ‘yes, hon?’; and we’ve been together since.”

Silently, Connor wonders how that works –he doesn’t ask, because it’s none of his business… but then again after such a scare at such a young age Kara had probably had enough for a few lifetimes over; and they are clearly very happy and very in love, so there’s that. Alice will probably grow to be a few steps of maturity above other kids, considering how open her parents are with explaining things and answering questions.

“So basically I was born thanks to Markus taking you here?” Alice asks, hiding a tiny laugh behind an equally tiny hand, making her mom fondly shake her head.

“You were born because I realized that the world isn’t as dark and terrible as it looked to a scared, lonely little girl, and that you could live a good, loved life filled with good people and affection.” Alice’s question always comes at the end of the story, and Kara’s answer is always the same, “And there’s just one person who _really_ made me see that.” She laces fingers with Luther, and they look at each other like they always do –everyone around them knows, story-time is over.

They resume their daily tasks, and Connor follows North back to the truck once all the goodbyes are said.

 

Carl is out with the horses again –he’s been getting more fresh air these past few days, and it’s been doing wonders for his health. Ra looks grumpy about the saddle, but Markus is there every step of the way, cooing reassurance and praise.

Connor’s heart swells at the sight, not only for his favorite, beloved cowboy, but for Carl as well –North was right on that first day; the man is a delight, and Simon was right when he told him Carl is a father to all of them, loving and wise and holy fuck how could anybody _not_ love the cryptic old painter? Wise and caring but prone to wisecracking as well –in hindsight, Connor doesn’t struggle at all to imagine Carl and Hank thick as thieves, wreaking havoc in their teenage days. The smile on his face is so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt.

“Whew, dial it down, detective!” North comments, by his side, “It’s starting to look like you want to do the kind of riding that saves a horse!”

He was expecting the teasing, but the energetic pat that cascades on his back catches him by surprise and sends him into sputters. “N-North!!!” he groans –she is _very_ strong.

“Oh, shit sorry!” it’s basically part of their routine, by now –the resident mechanic often forgets her strength, and the boys are more often than not subject to shoulder pats that would make lesser men weep. The only one who gets scot free is Carl –everyone remembers to be gentle with him, whether it is for his vulnerable condition or the quiet, almost hidden authority he naturally exudes, Connor can’t quite tell. He walks it off regardless with a shake of the head and a “You’re being crass again, North!”

She sticks her tongue out at him and turns to go park the truck in the shed.

He walks up to the enclosure just as Markus makes the final round with Ra. “You’re doing great, Carl.”

Carl is not doing much of anything and he knows it, but a small amount of upper body workout is better than none at all, he supposes, and he chuckles lovingly as he pets the mustang’s dark mane. “Ra has been very patient with me… but I think he’s itching for some freedom now.” He says, motioning to his son to let him down, “And I see another wild horse running towards you to be taken out for a jog.” He adds, once Connor is in sight and –much to the young man’s amused mortification— within hearing range.

Markus only just manages not to sputter, and instead just calls “Carl…” with a tone equal parts amused and chastising –his father obviously doesn’t suffer it in the slightest, he just affectionately rolls his eyes.

Connor, in a show of impeccable diplomacy, ignores the teasing entirely in favor of asking after his health. “Hello, Carl. Feeling up to riding, today?”

“You know this one, he won’t let the horses forget my name.” Markus gets patted on the back much like one of the horses themselves –the only reason he doesn’t retaliate is because he’s busy removing the saddle and reins from Ra.

But oh, he does take the time to greet the trainee detective properly once he’s done. Saddle still slung over his shoulder, he turns towards Connor with that roguish smile of his and mirth in his mismatched eyes.

“Hey, you.” He simply says, and it’s enough for Connor to tug him in by the belt.

He’s not even bothered by the stubble against his skin as he kisses Markus hello. “How was riding?”

“They were happy to be left out to play longer, but poor Ra was grumpy the whole time.” Markus sidesteps Connor to start pushing Carl’s wheelchair as they make their way in together, “I’ll give him some extra nice oats, and was thinking of going out for a nice, long run. Join us?”

If he had to be completely honest, Connor would love nothing more than to learn how to ride exactly like Markus, with no constraints and no worries, just him, the horse and the wind in his hair, but… he’s just not sure if he’s ready yet. “I’d love, to, but…”

“You’ve been doing excellently the past few days.” Markus gently coaxes, “I’m telling you, a few more outings and Bubble will be ready to let go of the saddle for you.”

“You came all the way out here to enjoy the countryside, son…” Carl adds, hand reaching out to pat Connor gently on a forearm, “Trust me, the best way to do that is to let Markus whisk you away and into this or that forest.”

The thought does bring quite the magical picture to the usually analytical and no-nonsense detective’s mind. Just the two of them, riding along the greenery, away from everything and everyone… “Now you’re just ganging up on me.” He jokes, but he does eventually nod to Markus in assent.

They all have a bit of a late lunch together, then Markus and Connor go out with the horses and are not seen any more until well into dinnertime –the detective is quite proud of having been able to mostly keep up. Maybe he _will_ try going without a saddle soon.

“Markus, I need you to go out a little bit later tomorrow morning.”  Simon says at one point, “I’ll take care of the  chickens; there’s a large order due tomorrow so I’ll feed them, gather up all the eggs, load the truck and go.”

The other just nods, helping himself to some more food. “Ok. I’ll take your chores for the morning then, so you won’t have to do those on top of the trip back and forth. You can refill the hay for me on the way back in.”

Connor will never cease to smile at the seamless cooperation between all of them. He catches Josh’s eye on the other side of the table, and he’s grinning too.

“So you guys are gonna be ok if I take the bike to the motor shop and help Isa out for the morning?” North asks then, “She’s alone and has a big repair to do…”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine, I can be on the lookout for small fixes once I come back from the pasture while you’re out.” Josh assures her with a wink, and she sticks her tongue at him.

“Be careful with my babies.”

He makes a show of being outraged. “Hey, I always am!”

“Always? What about that one time…”

The rest of dinner is friendly bickering and funny stories –Connor even shares a few of his own, mostly concerning Hank and very peculiar times of his internship training with the police force.

“You know, dad…” he tells Hank once they hook up their daily skype call, “I’m really going to miss them all.”

 _«Well, kiddo… it’s only two and a half hours by car.»_ his father points out, with a knowing sort of look on his face, _«No reason not to do a little bit of back and forth, if it’s worth it.»_

Connor hesitates. He clicks his tongue slightly and shrugs in his shoulders. “When has long distance ever worked out, dad?”

 _«Hey. Carl and I are still close friends, thank you very much.»_ Hank knows that’s not what his boy meant, but they have a special bond like that so he feels no remorse when he adds: _«And it’s only because I don’t swing that way, otherwise you can bet your ass I’d have been all over that. Dude was_ sizzling _back in the day.»_

“Dad!!!”

_«Seriously, I’m sure I have some pictures…»_

“Dad, TMI, please!”

Connor is laughing to the point his chest shakes with every breath and the smile splitting his cheeks is equal parts amused and exasperated. Mission accomplished. Once the giggles die down, the young man’s face softens into something a bit gentler. “I do miss you too, though.”

 _«You’ll be back in a few weeks and it’ll be like you never left.»_ Hank assures, _«I hope you’re ready for_ that. _»_

“I’ll just hug Sumo and hide for the first week.”

And he’s only half joking about that. Detroit can be quite overwhelming when you haven’t been there for a long time. Still, he does look forward to see his family again, there’s no two ways about that.

They exchange their goodnights, and Connor is just about drifting into sleep when a sound from his door nearly makes him jump. He gets up from bed, using all of his stealth training and expertise to reach all the way to the doorknob, silently grabs it to fling the door swiftly open, and…

“Hey there.” Markus is standing there, shirtless and beautiful like he has _no_ business being, after scaring Connor like that; and he just about loses it.

“Markus!” he whisper-shouts, “You gave me half a heart attack, damn it! You better have a good reason for slinking your way around like that, or—”

Throwing his arms around Connor’s neck, Markus leans forward and just kisses Connor deep and slow, like he wants to grow old on the other’s lips.

“Okay…” Connor says, slightly breathless once they eventually part, “That’s a pretty solid reason.”

Markus laughs against his lips as he dives forward again.

“Not that I’m complaining—” Connor is interrupted by more kisses as he speaks, “But—” one more, just a peck at the corner of his lips because he’s retreating slightly even as Markus’s mouth chases his, “What brought this on?”

The cowboy seems to perk up and remember something at that. He turns back towards the door to go and pick up something that was left perched against the outside of it. Connor takes that time to notice that Markus is in his underwear –again– and that his fingers and arms are stained with paint –also a regular occurrence. “I finished your portrait.” He proudly declares, holding up the canvas for Connor to see.

It’s… definitely his facial features, but other than that, it could be an [archer](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1vWBJGftBKjx7XTjOrDAyn1s6KQSp5G6b/view) from a fantasy novel. Or a Norse myth, knowing what Connor knows –apparently Baldur was the fastest warrior and keenest archer of the Aesir. It’s strange seeing himself in a hooded cape and long flowing hair, but it’s as flattering a depiction as any. Connor is impressed; and it’s not only because of the sheer skill that went into making the portrait look as if the observer is gazing through rain-stained glass. Baldur’s figure is young, almost delicate, and yet the shadow over his eyes is threatening and the hold on his bow secure and unfaltering.

 _This_ is what Markus sees in him –beauty and strength coexisting in a perfect balance, a deceiving angel face concealing the fiery energy he’s capable of.

Most people stop at his boyish features and don’t think twice about underestimating him. But not Markus –he sees, really sees Connor, rather than just look, and loves him for every aspect of his personality. This one painting is making him feel more handsome and powerful than a thousand compliments ever will.

“It’s… it’s amazing, Markus.” And he means it. He could kiss him again.

Oh wait. They’re together. He _can_ kiss him again.

So he does. Kissing Markus is one of his favorite night-time activities.

Kissing Markus while the other sneaks his hands up and under his t-shirt is even better. Connor steps back as his boyfriend steps forward, and he doesn’t fight gravity when the back of his knees hits the bed –he’s much too distracted by the taste of the other’s mouth to care, and he lets himself fall down on the mattress, relishing in the way Markus follows and only separating from his lips because Markus whispers “Arms up” against them.

Connor lifts his arms and lets Markus pull the t-shirt over his head with a smirk… only to stop short when his boyfriend leans forward again, grinning almost wolfishly.

“Markus, wait—”

To his credit, Markus freezes on the spot. “Is it too fast?” he asks in a whisper –his breath is trembling, he was clearly very much getting into it, but he does not push it any further as they talk. He leans his head against Connor’s chest. “Tell me to fuck off and I will, no questions asked.”

Not for the first time, Connor feels a rush of fondness for the boy in front of him –always so willing to put other’s needs before his own. “Say that you’ll leave once more and I’ll punch you in the face.” He threatens, lifting Markus’s chin with one hand to make the other look at him, “I’ve just… got this problem with trust, I don’t…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t ask _that_ from you this soon, I just knew North snuck some protection in your room, it should be right there by the—”

“No!” in his rush to correct him, Connor realizes what he just implied and goes beet red. “I mean, yes, that too, thank you…” he hurries to say, fumbling with the contents of the drawer Markus was leaning sideways to open, “But… I’m… not quite comfortable with…”

 _Now_ Markus starts to really follow along: Connor looks down between them, especially at the way Markus was kneeling on the bed, between his legs. “Bottoming?” he asks, and doesn’t quite understand why Connor would be so mortified as he nods. “That it? That’s easily fixed, love, here.” He perches both hands on Connor’s shoulders for leverage, and brings his knees on the outside of the other’s hips, happily straddling his lap.

“You… don’t mind?”

The question is so astonished that it nearly breaks Markus’s heart. Used as he was to someone as demanding and inattentive as Gavin motherfucking Reed, Connor is genuinely surprised at having his wishes put first in bed. It’s unfathomable for Markus not to accommodate his partner in some way, and he wonders how much exactly of a douchebag this Gavin guy was and _how_ did that not immediately set off alarms. But they’re here now, Connor is with _him_ ; and he fully intends to show him a good time.

He leans forward, to whisper just against his ear and call forth all the seductiveness North says he doesn’t have: “It’s not that I ‘don’t mind’, beautiful… it’s more that I’ve been thinking about riding you into the sunset ever since I saw the way you looked at me onto that bull.”

It seems to have the desired effect, because Connor’s voice is lower and there’s a definite _something_ pushing back beneath Markus, when the other chuckles and whispers back teasingly: “Doesn’t the song go ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’?”

“I’ve always found that song really stupid…” Markus says, pausing briefly to bite at Connor’s neck and enjoying the sound of air leaving the other’s mouth in a gasp as he nips and sucks at the soft skin there, “If you really want to save the horse, you need to let the cowboy do the riding…”

Can’t argue that logic.

Markus insists that he doesn’t need much preparation, not with what his body is used to everyday, so they make quick work of getting protection and get rid of their clothes; then he’s quick to find his way into Connor’s lap again, like he belongs there.

“Markus, are you sure? You don’t have to—”

Markus would feel guiltier about shutting Connor up with kisses if his boyfriend wasn’t so enthusiastic about reciprocating, every time. And oh— Connor is a biter. He can barely pace himself enough to languidly run his hands down the other’s neck, then his chest; and then, ever so slowly, brace one against Connor’s lean hips and line up with his prize.

“This still ok?” he locks eyes with Connor before lowering himself, and only starts when Connor nods and tells him “Go for it.”

Connor tries his hardest to give Markus plenty of time to adjust and let _him_ set the pace, but his boyfriend seem quite insistent in proving exactly how _fast and hard_ he can ride –he cards a hand through Connor’s hair and kinda _tugs_ , which never really had an effect on him… up until now apparently; and with the other hand Markus grabs his wrist and guides Connor’s hand to his own hip. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.” He whispers reverently against his lips –which already baffles Connor, he didn’t think it was possible to ride cock with _reverence_ , “I’m not a doll, I won’t break.” And yet the sweet, hushed tones Markus uses to gasp out his words as they bounce together speak of nothing but adoration, “I ride _mustangs_ for a living, show me what you’ve got, city boy.”

Insecurity be damned, Connor picks up the pace and gives Markus exactly what he wants, all but growling a “Careful what you wish for” sort of warning as he leans forward to bite at an amber shoulder –Markus’s skin is just as delicious as he imagined it would be; and he decides to let his wishes guide him and holds the other close to kiss, lick and bite at the skin of his chest.

Markus, Connor is discovering, is a very responsive lover. He gasps and moans and arches and tightens his grip on his shoulders –Connor is quite sure he will have some nice, red nail marks when this is over, but he doesn’t care, couldn’t care if he tried, not with this cowboy in his lap riding him like there’s no tomorrow… his own hands travelled along Markus’s body, but one stopped just behind his shoulder-blades, to guide him up and down even though he doesn’t really need it; and the other started stroking him at a moderate pace, trying to keep up with the rough rhythm but mostly just aching for more contact between their bodies, almost quite literally grasping at any expanse of warm skin he can find.

Connor loves every face and every noise, but what really makes him lose it is to see, feel and hear Markus come undone with _his_ name on his lips.

It doesn’t take him long to wrap things up after that –and Markus, as dutifully considerate in bed as he is with everything else, holds Connor close to his chest as he goes over the edge still pounding him into oblivion for the few following minutes. They stay still for a few long seconds, chests heaving and still not quite sure that just happened.

“Wow…” Connor eventually breathes, forehead still resting against his lover’s collarbone, prompting a light chuckle from Markus:

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” He moves to get off the bed and clean them up, but in a sudden, irrational movement Connor grabs him by the wrist.

“Stay?” he _hates_ how needy that just sounded, but he really doesn’t want to wake up alone tomorrow.

He gets to see Markus’s face go from confused, to surprised, to positively adoring in the span of two second and it’s such a relief to see him lift the hand Connor was holding to kiss the fingers closed around his wrist.

“Of course I’ll stay.” He assures, “Let me grab a few things from the bathroom, clean us up a bit, and then we can fall asleep together.”

Connor bites his lower lip while he watches Markus wobble his way around the room. “I should be the one to do that—”

After all, there’s finger-shaped bruises already forming on Markus’s hips and some on his shoulder-blades too, not to mention all the bite marks.

“Hush.” Clearly, his beloved cowboy is having none of it, “You can do it next time. I told you I’m more than fine with taking things a little rough. This is barely the beginning.”

That sounds almost like a threat, but Connor would be a liar if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Five minutes and some more good-natured bickering later, they do fall asleep together –and Connor doesn’t even mind being the little spoon.

 

A strange noise, something scraping against wood and metal, wakes Connor up to find Markus already alert.

“Did you hear that?” he asks, eyes only just focusing and quite surprised to find his boyfriend's expression downturned in a dark, worried frown.

“That’s Ra.” He utters, with an odd certainty about him as he throws off the covers.

“What was?” Connor asks, still blinking away the sleep...

He will never know if the horse had already cried out just before he woke or if Markus and Ra are _that_ well connected, but suddenly, not one second after Markus spoke, a desperate neighing sound echoes from the barn; and his boyfriend locks eyes with him and just says: “ _That._ ”

The detective follows Markus out of the bed –nevermind that one of them is in his underwear and the other is in a t-shirt and shorts. He goes for the lockbox that he asked for on his second day on the ranch to pull out the one thing he thought he’d never have to use while out here. “Let’s go check it out.”

He sees Markus freeze for a moment –he guesses is understandable, he just pulled a gun out of the lockbox and is now loading it with the ammo he kept in the drawer on the other side of the room, but still. He’s technically a certified detective, he got his license to conceal and carry a good while ago.

“Did you have that with you the whole time?”

“I had hoped not to have to get it out…” Connor confesses, “But one too many things have threatened the people I love, I’m not fucking around anymore.”

Something about the hard look and steely tone Connor says that with shoots down Markus’s spine in tingles, but it’s very clearly _not the time_ , and he just leads his boyfriend silently down the stairs and out the door, keeping all the lights off to take whatever intruder they find by surprise –Markus could make his way around the ranch blindfolded, and Connor trusts him more than enough to be led around in the dark.

 

“Shh! Shhh!!! Goddamn you, you stupid horse—”

What they find is none other than Zlatko, the cattle auctioneer that Connor chased off a few days prior, inside the barn and trying –quite fruitlessly– to get a bridle in Ra’s mouth to try and drag him away from the barn’s enclosure.

“What the hell is happening over here?!” Markus’s voice is a roar of thunder in the quiet stillness of the ranch, and immediately all the horses start making noise in recognition of their only accepted master –Connor wouldn’t believe it if he heard it told, it’s a cacophony of neighing and hooves on the ground as soon as they hear and see Markus, bound to wake up anyone in a ten mile radius.

“Shit.” Zlatko may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he can think fast. He throws the metal bridle right at Markus’s face and makes a break for the window he broke in through.

The offending object hits true and Markus staggers, but Connor gives chase knowing it’ll take way more than that to put someone like his very own cowboy down. He vaults over the hay bales that Zlatko topples behind himself, dodges the bucket the man throws at him and blocks the rake by putting up his forearm.

Connor sees Zlatko finally stumble through the window and he follows in a leap. “Freeze, Detroit Police!!” he yells it out of habit, but it makes it apparent to the intruder that there’s a gun involved.

Zlatko does stop, and puts his hands up, though his expression remains defiant. “What do you think you’re doing, boy?” he asks, “You have no jurisdiction here, you’re just a civilian pointing a gun at another civilian.”

“Don’t get cute with me, you fucking criminal!” Connor shouts at him, feeling a few cold droplets hit his hands –it’s about to rain. Damn summer storms. “You were trying to steal Ra from the barn!”

“And what proof do you have?”

God, something about how this asshole talks makes Connor’s blood boil. “You mean besides the breaking in, the catching you in the act and the rake you threw at me in an attempt to flee? If you think you can sleaze your way out of this you can think again!” his hands tighten around the gun and it’s only Markus’s hands touching his forearms that make him relax his grip ever so slightly.

“Connor, don’t… don’t shoot him.” _Jesus Markus, there’s a limit to being a pacifist._ It’s the first thought to cross the detective’s mind –Markus is bleeding from the forehead, he just saw the person he hates the most try to steal the horse he loves the most and he _still_ worries about not being violent? He’s barely even standing, for crying out loud! “Smell that? It’s… gasoline. This asshat wanted to— to set fire to the barn to cover his tracks. Whatever you do don’t fire your gun, not even a warning shot.”

Ah. That makes slightly more sense. Connor’s lips curl into an angry sneer. “Fantastic, so I can haul his ass in jail for attempted murder, too!”

“You won’t be able to prove that!” Zlatko yells back, “The rain will wash away all the traces well before anyone finds out!”

“Oh really?” North’s voice makes the auctioneer whip around to look. “Because we just got off the phone with the Allegan Police to report a break in, a patrol will be here ‘momentarily’.”

By her side, Simon is still holding the phone.

Connor breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing them –of course, all the noise the horses made upon seeing Markus must have woken up the entire household.

“Screw this, I’m not going to jail for this—” Zlatko runs forward rather than back –Connor follows him along still pointing the gun at him, but his blood turns to ice in his veins when the man takes advantage of the obviously still woozy Markus and yanks him by the arm to use him as a shield. “Don’t come any closer!”

The man’s other hand closes around Markus’s neck and for a second Connor actually considers negotiating his boyfriend’s release for Zlatko’s freedom –but it’s not gonna be over that way, they know it.

It’s a split second, really. Markus looks at Connor with a gaze more focused than he’d have given him credit for at the moment, probably thanks to the adrenaline rush, and the nod is imperceptible.

Zlatko gets to learn first-hand why you don’t get into a wild horse’s blind spot: it _will_ kick.

Energy exhausted in the one powerful kick to his assailant’s stomach, Markus flops forwards, but it’s enough for Connor to cross the distance in a leap and hit Zlatko in the side of the head with the butt of his gun.

As far as non-lethal incapacitations go… this is a bit messy, but it qualifies. Sirens in the distance and Josh shouting “Here!” from the front gates signal the arrival of the Allegan Police patrol. Kneeling on the grass to try and help Markus up, Connor sighs in relief when he sees the other still conscious and smiling back at him.

It’s over.

The patrol takes Zlatko into custody and they take everybody’s preliminary witness account on the spot –Simon offers to go back first and reassure Carl, who had also woken up to the noise and instantly feared for Markus’s life; and Connor gets praised for his reaction time and clean takedown, the senior officer pats his head and tells him he’ll do great things over in Detroit. It’s all it takes to make the battle-hardened detective revert back into the bashful kid that lowers his eyes and smiles at praise from his dad, but the worst is behind them now, so Connor can afford to relax.

Markus insists to see Carl himself –he knows his own old man won’t go back to sleep unless he sees his son safe… only to get a proper tongue-lashing when Carl sees him still bleeding from the head: “You worry about my sleep schedule while your fool head is still split open? Fuck’s sake, boy, when will you learn to put your health first?!”

“I know, Carl, I’m sorry…” whether he’s taking it all in stride or is still dizzy from the blow to the head, Markus speaks with a smile and a soft voice, “I just wanted to let you know I’m okay.”

“That’s debatable.”

The laughter is genuine even as Markus self-consciously swipes at his bleeding brow, “I’ll go get patched up right away, Connor is taking me.”

Carl sends a look to the young trainee detective, equal parts exasperated and thankful. “Good. I trust him more than yourself with your well-being.”

“Okay, I probably deserved that.”

“You do.” Connor confirms, not quite laughing but close to it. “Come on, let’s get some clothes on you. Who’s the closest physician?”

“Luther.”

Connor shakes his head even as he walks Markus to his room and helps him into a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Come on, Mark, I meant a human doctor.”

Markus just shrugs. “It’s just a couple of stitches, love.” He argues, letting his boyfriend help him with the shirt, “And he called me ‘mad horse’ enough times to warrant me treatment as one.”

Mad Horse would probably suit Markus better even than ‘fearless leader’ as a name, knowing what Connor knows of him now. Relenting, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll take you to Luther first. But I don’t wanna hear any whining if he says you need to go to a hospital, you’re going. Deal?”

The cowboy leans in for a kiss and smiles even as he meets Connor’s fingers pushing him back rather than a willing mouth. “Deal.”

“And no kissing until you’re sutured and cleared to walk on your own!”

“Well, now you’re just being mean.”

 

Luckily for Markus, Luther stiches up his forehead easily enough –he’ll have a scar on his eyebrow, but other than that he doesn’t need a hospital.

The veterinarian does jokingly point out that “Out of all the horses I’ve had to care for, you’re definitely my worst patient. Hyperactive, unruly thing, you are!”

Markus laughs it off, but now that the tension settled down, Connor’s hands tremble at the memory of Zlatko holding Markus by the throat as a shield… the terrifying split-second his gun aligned with Markus’s chest is giving him the chills.

It doesn’t surprise him that Markus notices he’s shaking as they make their way back to the truck.

“Hey.” He calls softly, taking both of his hands, “Hey. Connor. Look at me.” After a bit of coaxing, Connor looks. “I’m okay.”

He wasn’t expecting a kiss, but he didn’t realize how much he needed one until he feels the soft press of Markus’s lips against his own. It’s nothing more, just a quick, chaste peck, but it grounds Connor back into the reality Markus’s words couldn’t quite hammer down:

_He’s okay. They’re okay._

_Everything will be alright._

 

It’s well past five when they finally make it back to the ranch, and Simon is already feeding the chickens even as they’re all a bit confused as to what to do now. In an impressive show of mental fortitude, Markus takes charge with such a speed that makes it seem effortless: “Simon will go deliver the order for the morning as we planned. North, if you can stay behind an hour or two, help Josh clear out the barn –we need to remove all traces of gasoline before it’s safe again for the animals, we’ll probably have to throw away the entire lot of hay… let the horses out in the enclosure and close the barn, they can play for a while longer for once.” He says, organizing the tasks in his head with a presence Connor isn’t sure he himself would have if he was recovering from a metal object being thrown at his head. “I’ll take a couple hours to recover, spend some time with Carl, and then join you guys… Connor, if you can help Josh after North has to go and finish clearing out the barn, I’ll bring in the clean food and water for the horses.”

Connor nods with a smile. If he goes out to help, Josh will still manage to get the sheep out in good time and the daily life of the ranch won’t have suffered too bad just because of a slimy son of a bitch who thought he could get away with stealing a God –he had his doubts on the way Markus talked about Ra before, but something in the way the mustang reacted to Markus’s presence, and how all the other horses readily started making noise in his defence, kind of made a believer out of Connor.

Maybe not in the literal sense of the word, but out here, in the limitless countryside, there’s a little bit of a God in every living creature.

Not in the least in Markus, especially in his mismatched eyes, as he looks intensely at Connor once they’re left alone. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Connor isn’t sure why he’s whispering, considering everyone is out and about, but he does, as he brings his lover’s hand to his mouth and trails little kisses on his knuckles. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“Maybe.” Markus concedes, “But I’m asking you.”

Once more, his uncanny ability of seeing through people makes Connor smile –he was uneasy about pulling his gun on someone for the first time; and he was damn near traumatized about seeing someone he loves on the other end of the barrel, held hostage. If nothing else, this was a pretty damn good training exercise. Connor takes a deep breath in and out. “I’ll be okay.”

They are alive, they are together; and they are safe.

Everything else can wait –including the fact that they’ve called each other ‘love’ in the heat of the moment for the very first time.

Letting relief wash over him as he finds solace in Markus’s awaiting arms, Connor smiles to himself.

He fully intends to enjoy the rest of his stay, while it last –as for what happens after…

…come what may, they’ll face it together, just as they did tonight.


	8. in which they get their happy ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor had always been unfamiliar with the concept of 'happily ever after', when he was younger; he never thought it was even true, much less that it would at all happen to him.
> 
> That's why he's so surprised when it hits him, [...] that this might be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOOLY MOLY WE ARE DONE.
> 
> In record time, but that's just because this epilogue is as sweet as it is short.  
> This is possibly the longest fic that ever came out of a tumblr prompt.  
> Again, many thanks to youwereagoodboy for the idea, and thanks to all of you for following along my crazy ramblings.
> 
> I love you all to bits, and I promise, I've got more coming.  
> Some prompted, some not quite.  
> But my RK1000 heart is still beating hard and fast. ♥
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this.  
> See you all with whatever comes next! ;)

 

Connor had always been unfamiliar with the concept of 'happily ever after', when he was younger; he never thought it was even true, much less that it would at all happen _to him_.

That's why he's so surprised when it hits him, on one outing with North and Isabelle, that this might be it.

They're just walking back to the motor shop to take North's track to go back, when a familiar –and yet different— group of people walks by them.

Isa doesn't falter as she smiles, both hands on her hips: "Alright, let's hear it."

David knows he's being condescended to, but he laughs about it and exaggerates a bow. "Good morning, ladies and gents."

"Ah, very good!" The biker girl praises, "And the hair is _fierce_ and the shirt works, I _love it_!"

Connor is smiling already without realizing, just like North is, even as she laces fingers with Isabelle; but then David turns to him and makes it better: "Hey, uh... Connor, was it?" He nods so the other can carry on, "Will you tell Markus that we're sorry?"

His cheeks hurt again from smiling too much. "Of course."

"Will you tell him that _I'm_ sorry? For... y'know... things I said?"

Remembering how Markus called David 'repressed' among other things, and some very specific taunting about his boyfriend's ass, something possessive coils around him, and he can't help the way his voice hardens a little: "I don't think that's gonna make things any different for you, but it's _Markus_ we're talking about... he forgives anyone who tries."

Connor lets his smile get fond at that, with all of his love –because it _is_ love— on his face for everyone to see: he's very happy that with some time to think David and his gang have had a change of heart, but he wants to make sure everyone knows that Markus is _not_ up for grabs.

Markus is confused when Connor all but slams him against the enclosure to kiss him long and deep before he can even say "welcome back", but he's not complaining –at least, not until Midnight comes up behind them and nudges his back to demand cuddles for himself, making them accidentally head-butt each other.

Simon, who just so happened to see the entire display and saw the Fresian coming, lowers his phone and good-naturedly says "That's why you save the making out for when you're off the clock!"

"Very funny." Markus deadpans, still rubbing his forehead while he drapes his free arm around Connor, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Nowhere so urgent that I can't make a little fun of you!" Is the very predictable answer, and Connor chuckles at the whole thing.

Yes. If there ever was a 'happily ever after', this is definitely it.

 

Weeks go by almost in a daze, Connor lets Markus convince him to try and go out without a saddle with Bubble; and... surprisingly, he manages. He isn't nearly as fast or as graceful as Markus is on Ra, but he does ok. Enough to keep up with the moderate pace his boyfriend sets for their outing and make his little dream come true: riding in the forest, just the two of them, their horses, no restrictions and no worries.

The outside world can wait a little, and it does, for one afternoon.

 

Markus blows him on the night before his last day on the ranch.

Actually, it's more accurate to say he spends the night worshipping Connor, taking his sweet time kissing every inch of skin he can find or uncover, starting from his boyfriend's defined cheekbones and then down his neck, where Markus leaves a couple of bite marks to last well into next week –"To remember me by..." he says with a cheeky smile; and Connor just shakes his head as he lifts his arms and lets Markus slide his shirt off to keep kissing his way down Connor's torso.

The sensitive little twitches and gasps Connor reacts with once Markus is nipping and kissing his way down his boyfriend's hipbones tell him that no one ever took the time to do this properly for Connor –which is a miscarriage of justice in and of itself, but the way those brown eyes widen in realization and he seems genuinely shocked... Markus grins up at him.

"Strap yourself in." He says, before he has to descend between his lover's legs, "You're in for a wild ride.”

 

 

Needless to say, Markus was very much true to his word and the next morning Connor worries that the entire goddamn house heard the noises he was making.

But realization hits all around that it's his last day in the countryside; and whatever teasing could have been thrown his way is abandoned in favor of making the most of the few hours left together.

Case in point, Connor discovers when he sees Isabelle, Luther, Kara and Alice coming at the front gate, they're all having a big 'goodbye' lunch out in the garden in his honor. Considering the only person who ever did anything in his honor has been Hank celebrating his birthday, Connor gives himself a pass when his eyes glaze over upon seeing his friends heave tables and chairs around –Markus's task had been clearly to keep him busy and out of sight to set up the surprise.

"You didn't!" He can't help but exclaim, hiding his face in Markus's neck.

"We did." Is all the other says, hugging him at the waist and coaxing him to his side to walk together to the table, "Make way for our guest of honor!"

Connor gets hugged, fed a delicious meal, and entertained with all sorts of friendly banter and funny stories –he only stops to look at the situation from the outside for one second, when Carl calls him 'son', in the middle of a story of his own about himself and Hank during their youth. It's carefree and simple, effortless like he man himself, a simple "You don't know the half of it, son..."

And yet it hits Connor. Almost in the same way it did when Hank called him son for the first time –as barely as he remembers such a far back past: he feels like he belongs. Like these people are a piece of his heart; and he is one of theirs.

Little Alice, bless her heart, is clearly more perceptive than anyone gives her credit for, because she takes one look at Connor's face and snaps him out of his thoughts by clapping and demanding loudly: "Speech! Speech, speech, speech!!!"

Everyone else is quick to follow along and Connor has no choice but to stand up -though he keeps his fingers laced with Markus's by his side.

"I... am known to be terrible at public speaking...." he starts, prompting one bout of laughter already, "But I _will_ make an effort for you guys, because you're all amazing and deserve it."

"Awwww! My baby ducky!" That would be Isa.

Connor chuckles and shakes his head. "I came out here last month expecting to be bored out of my mind... instead, not only I find way more excitement than I ever thought possible to be there in one given place..." with everything that happened, the Manfred ranch has been anything _but_ boring, "...I also found... something that I didn't think would ever come my way." He briefly looks down and to the side to smile at Markus, who smiles back just as adoringly. "You, all of you, have made me feel more welcomed and loved than my hometown ever did, and I'll leave today, but with a promise: this isn't the last Allegan County sees of detective Connor Anderson. You won't get rid of me that easily."

The statement is closed off with a wink and North is the one to initiate the round of applause –Markus was too busy tugging Connor to the side for a quick kiss.

 

As all good things, though, the garden banquet comes to an end; and before he knows it Connor is making the rounds for goodbyes. He goes for Isa, Kara, Luther and Alice first, since they're going back too.

Which is the moment Connor discovers Luther gives great group hugs, as he gathers all of them up in his arms and just _lifts_.

"You take care out there, y'hear me?"

"I will do my best." He assures as he gets a pat on the cheek from Kara and then Alice tugs on his sleeve:

"I got this for you." It's a small bouquet of flowers, "These grow wild around here."

It's such a small, simple gesture, but it still tugs at the strings in Connor's heart.

" _You all_ grow wild around here." He says, reminding himself not to cry as he pats the child’s cheek, "Thank you, Alice."

The next in line for goodbyes are North, Josh and Simon; and oh boy, Simon already looks like he's barely holding it in.

He even jokes about it himself, fanning his face dramatically. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry!"

It succeeds in pulling a chuckle out of Connor, and he opens his arms, "It's okay Simon, we can cry like babies together." He says, opening his arms and accepting the hug that comes at him like a freight train – _damn it_ , these people turned him into a hugger. He blames it on Markus, the guy gives _great_ hugs. Josh doesn't take long to join in; and it's a matter of seconds before North tuts and teases them: "Alright boys, break up the sausage fest, let me see my baby."

Connor turns to her with an easy smile. It seems forever ago that she was just this strange girl in a braid waving at him from the station platform. "North... my best wing-woman..."

"You don't need that anymore." She comments, hands on her hips in a way that is clearly Isabelle rubbing off on her.

He smiles wider. "Best friend, then."

"I can live with that."

They share a tight hug, and no one mentions North's eyes actually glazing over as they part.

 

Carl and Markus are waiting for him by the horse enclosure.

"You didn't think _this one_ would let you leave without saying goodbye to the horses, did you?"

"Not for one second." Connor assures, kneeling by Carl's wheelchair first. "Carl, I want to thank you, for... well, everything."

"Me?" The elderly painter asks, slightly surprised, "I barely did anything for you."

"Oh, but you did." The other insists, "You raised Markus. You brought him to me. You've also basically been a second dad to me."

Carl's face softens into a knowing smile, and he reaches out a hand to caress Connor's face. "You're a good man, Connor. Don't let the world ever change that."

He then nods at Markus and Connor lets himself be led by the hand into the enclosure. Immediately Bubble trots by his side for nose scratchies and pets.

"She'll miss you a lot." Markus mentions, just as Midnight and a few others try to have a turn at being pet by Connor as well. Eventually, once most of the horses have had their fill, Ra also slowly comes forward. Connor distinctly remembers feeling intimidated the first time the mustang was affectionate with him, fast and unexpected as it was. Now, knowing what he knows, he feels blessed for being on the temperamental horse's good side; and trusts Ra not to hurt him, even as the mustang nibbles on his shoulder and neck again.

It's almost painful to step away, but Markus has to drive him to the station if he's got any hopes of being back in Detroit for dinner.

 

At the station, of course, the hardest of all goodbyes takes place.

Connor was expecting Markus to hold both his hands, he was also expecting to be kissed long and hard for the whole station to see... what he was not expecting is the weight of something around his wrist when Markus pulls away; and he opens his eyes to see that his boyfriend moved the layered beaded bracelet he always wore from his own wrist to Connor's.

"What's this?" He knows it's a stupid question, but he can't help asking.

Markus rests his forehead against Connor's. "A reminder." He simply says, prompting the next question.

"...of what?"

"A reminder that you're mine... and I'm yours." Oh, Markus. Connor thinks he wouldn't forget that to save his own life. They kiss again, chaste and lighter this time; and Markus smiles against his lips. "You damn better still have it when I come visit next week."

The words _'visit'_ and _'next week'_ register in Connor's mind, and a surprised smile slowly stretches on his face. "Next week?!"

Markus nods. "The gallery displaying Carl's paintings is expanding the exhibits; Carl is sending me to make sure his babies are treated well." Connor gives him a look, he one that clearly says he's not taking any of his bullshit. Markus instantly relents: "That's the official reason, at least." There you go.

Connor closes his eyes. "One week will feel like forever."

Markus's hands tighten around his. "No. We _have_ forever. Next week will come soon, I promise."

They kiss once more after Markus helps him load his luggage on the train, and only let go of each other's hand when the carriage doors are closing.

Connor will miss waking up together, but he'd be a liar if he said he isn't looking forward to see his father and his dog again.

He does spend part of the first night back awake and hugging Sumo for comfort, but it gets easier after that.

Next week comes by surprisingly fast; and then there's the start of his proper detective work keeping him busy, not to mention the meetings and hearings for Zlatko's case –he definitely gets to see Markus at every chance they get.

Much to Hank's proud amusement, long distance does indeed work out, even after the case is successfully closed: Markus always drives over to Detroit once in the middle of the week, and Connor goes to spend his weekends in Allegan whenever his work allows him to, making for a rhythm steady enough that they see each other almost more than they would if they didn't have to make the effort.

Hank takes the chance to give Markus the proverbial shovel talk during one of his visits, but there's only so much he can be serious with Carl's kid; and when Connor comes out of the shower he finds his two favorite people laughing together like they're old friends.

 

Then, on one particular afternoon, commissioner Fowler storms into the DPD station back from his break and asks: "Will someone tell me why is there a man riding _an honest-to-God mustang_ _horse_ with a white tail on the steps of _my_ police station?!"

Connor beams and gets up instantly, and so does Hank as he mutters "Oh, _this_ I have to see."

Fowler looks at Connor, anger and surprise balking slightly at the boy's earnest smile. "Yes, Anderson?"

"That's just my boyfriend, sir. He came to pick me up for the end of my shift."

"...on horseback?" The senior officer is clearly baffled. Connor shrugs like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Well. He _is_ a cowboy." He knows there will be teasing for this, and sure enough a 'yee-haw' comes from somewhere behind him, along with a few catcalls and whistles, but he pays them no mind since he can already see Markus from beyond the glass doors, looking downright majestic on Ra's back. "May I be excused, sir?"

Fowler doesn't quite know what to say to that. He checks the time on his watch. "Do you have any open files?"

"No, sir, my tasks for the day are all completed."

What heartless bastard would deny young love like that? Shaking his head, Fowler sighs. "Then clock out for the day. Go."

The smile that breaks on Connor's face is probably the sweetest thing to ever grace the DPD station; and he all but runs to the entrance into Markus's awaiting arms –he had jumped off Ra as soon as he saw Connor run for the doors.

They cannot hear them from the outside, but a whole roomful of hardened policemen and policewomen openly made an 'awww' sound at the sight of Markus lifting Connor up and spinning him around once, before lowering him back down for a kiss.

"How did you get Ra all the way here?" Is the first thing Connor asks, "The poor baby must be exhausted!"

Markus shakes his head and mounts back on his friend while Connor pats Ra's mane in greeting. "We took the train. You know, one of those big ones that can transport cattle as well?"

Oh. That makes _much more_ sense than Markus riding all the way from Allegan to Detroit. Connor smiles in relief, and looks up at his boyfriend. "So… what brought _this_ on?"

Against all predictions, Markus is slightly bashful. "Ra missed you." He simply says, at first.

Connor knows his tells by now, though, so he just smiles expectantly and arches a brow. "...and?"

"...And maybe I really wanted to do this." Markus admits, holding his hand out for Connor to take.

Connor does take it, and he gets quite literally whisked off his feet and onto he mustang, just in front of Markus.

If he cared to listen for them, he'd hear some more cheers and hoots from inside the station –he doesn't care though. They can say what they want.

When all is said and done, _he's_ the one who gets to literally ride into the Detroit sunset with his lover.

And goddamn, if that doesn't make for a happily ever after, nothing else can ever even hope to compare.

Connor smiles, as he feels the comforting warmth of Markus's chest press against his back.

He'll very gladly take this one, thank you very much.


End file.
